x ;..3%&if^ ,. I^-^?" ^^5 ^^ '^'' >jvos- sess as narratives of the heroic deeds of Amer- ican manhood. They frequently attain the dignity of genuine contributions to the history of war. That which the private soldiers and company officers saw is as necessary to a true understanding of the war as are the general movements of large bodies of troops and the final results of battles and campaigns, which have already been so copiously reported by the brigade, division and coips commanders. The Tribune has taken great pleasure in bringing out and placing on record the stories of the men who did the actual fighting. Twice before it has published volumes containing the best of these stories ; and it now contributes to the i>ennanent history of the war a third series of these stories ■uTitten by Union soldiers for The Weekly Tribune. A glamour of romance aitlaches especially to the great wars and chi^alrio exploits of the dis- tant past ; and the WTiters of fiction are fond of incorporating in their works the stirring ad- ventures of the time of the Crusades, the wars of Napoleon, the military exploits of Egypt, Rome and Greece, and the exciting deeds of the Amer- ican Revolution. But no deeds more heroic, no adventures more romantic and no incidents more novel and strilcing were ever witnessed in any war than can be related of the War for the Preservation of the American Union. Of these latter every American youth should read. And it is especially necessary that he should read of them now, in these piping times of peace, when every iniiuence which will foster a true love of country and the purest spirit of devoted Amer- icanism is so necessary to the welfare of the great Republic. A large number of American families sent no representative from their mem- bership to bear arms for the Union. Among these families (and, strange to say, among some of the others) there are too often found at this day men to whom it comes easy to scoff at the Union veteran and to underrate his sei'vices to fhe country. They do not know whereof they speak. Let every American youth read, if he will, the reports of the great generals ; but let him also read The Tribune's stories from the pens of privates and company officers. The former will instruct him in the general history of the war. The latter vdll inspire him with a sentiment of deepest love of his country and countrymen. He will leam from these to be grateful for the services of the Union volun- teers, proud of their manhood, thankful to be one of their countrymen, and filled with the deepest respect and admiration for their char- acter. The man who once comes to understand the motives, the personal character, the sacri- fices and the dreadful sufferings of the volun- teers of the Union Army and NaA7 will never again be fond of the company of those who think that the Union volunteer "has been paid enough" for his services and that he is not worthy of the highest honors the oountiy can bestow. There is no politics in The Tribune's War Stories. Nevertheless, many of them uncon- sciously, entirely without intention, answer many of the attacks which it suits the conven- ience of the Democratic party to make on the Union volunteer and the system of pensions. Those ^^•ho have so little knowledge of the war as to believe that the Union Army was made up largely of " bounty jimipers" should read " The Boys of the Color Company" on the following pages. It is within the memory of eveiy one who was of age at the time of the war that that graphic story presents the exact picture of how the troops were raised and the material of which they were composed in all parts of the Northern country. These were the kmd of men who were the Union volunteers. TROE STORIES OF TRE WftR FOR TRE ONION Personal Experiences and Observations of Union Soldiers in tlie Several Campaigns. OUR CHIVALRY IN BLUE A STOBY WHICH THRILLS. THE BOYS OF THE COLOE COMPANY. THE WAY THE REGIMEKTS WERE RAISED-THE MEN WHO COMPOSED THEM-FATE OF THE 3J0YS OF A COMPANY OF THE H5TH N. Y. (From The WeeWy Tribune of January 18.) *' Without a single officer and with only twenty of the boys." That is the way one company— the color company of the regiment -returned from the war. Of IGO officers and men borne on the company rolls, who had marched a-n-ay from home and family and friends, only twentv came back, bringing with them "two tattered and battle-stained flags." The story as told elsewhere in this paper is only the plain, unstudied nanative of a A^et- Gian who was pari of it all, from the meeting in the little church in the village where the pastor and the Sundav-sch: ol superintendent, the farmer boys and mechanics put their names to the muster-roll, to the day when the twenty brought back their tattered flags with high and honorable pride, not uinnixed with sad- ness, and were mustered out. To say of a ■story that it is " as good as a novel," or " as interesting as a romance," passes for high praise. But this story of Company H of the 115th New- York is better and more interest- ing than either, without suggesting any com- parison ; it is so unlike anything in the form of fiction. There is no play of the imagination in it : a more simple and unaffected recital of a series of stirring events could hardly be con- ceived : and yet few readers, we venture to say. A^ill finish its perusal without the quiver- ing of the lips, the rising in the throat, the moisture in the eye which betoken sympathy and deep emotion. But it is only one of hundreds of just such stories that the rural communities, the villages and small towns throughout the North could furnish of the war period and the active part these little centres of population took in the great tragedy. There is a distinctness of de- tail, a realistic presentation of local and per- sonal characteristics and a homely simplicity of narrative about this story that make it vastly more effective than any studied elabo- ration or effort of art. To the old it will bring back with vivid clearness the scenes at the opening of the war ; the war meetings in town halls and v.llage churches and district schoolhouses ; the universal thrill of awakened patriotism that went through all the land to the smallest hamlet and remotest farm ; the stir and movement of the great uprising ; the massing of troops, the marching away, the long, wearisome waiting for news from camp and field and hospital, the hopes and fears, the joys and sorro\^s, which through the four years of -nar kept the whole people tense, eager and expectant. To the young it may serve as a stimulant to patriotism and perhaps a»s a re- buke to selfish love of ease and indiiJ'erence to public concerns. And no one, young or old. can fail to be attracted by its simplicity and unaffected pathos. It is well, too, to remember in these piping times of peace, when v^e are beginning to tallc about the enormous cost to the country of pro- viding for the surviving soldiers of the war and the widows and orphans of those who laid down their fives for the Union, that it is to such men as these of Company H, all true men, brave, honest and self-sacrificing, that wQ owe the existence of the Government ; but for them we should not have been a Nation. Half Moon, N. Y., Jain. 14.— In July, 1862, the writer of this sketch, then a rosy-cheeked boy, waS raking and binding rye in a field on hia father's farm in Saratoga County, N. Y., and was in a deep study over President Lincoln's I'ecent proclamation calling for 600,000 men to put down the Rebellion. I was descended from patriotic ancestry. On my mother's side they fought for liberty in the Eevolution. On my father's si by my great-grandfather was a sol- dier, and lost his eyesight during a great sa.nd- ptorm on the desert of Arabia. I inherited love of country ; and the firing on Fort Sumter stirred my patriotic blood. I relate minutiae in detail because they fairly describe the situa- tion in thousands of homes all over the North; and thousands upon thousands of other boys were led to go out in defence of their country hy similar ways, facts and sentiments. I began to feel that the work on the farm was tame and of small importance. It was with great LIBEAPY OF TEIEUNE EXTRAS. diflSculty that I restrained the fire of youthful impatience and patriotism. As I mowed along in my monotonous work my mind became made up. Suddenly turning around to my cousin, who was raking and binding rye at my side and who was a much younger boy, I said : " Henry, win you enhst if I do ?'' "Yes," replied Henry, with spirit, "if you enlist, I will." Sticking the handle of my raike into the ground, and remarking that I had bound my last sheaf of rye, I started for the house, meet- ing father on the way. He looked surprised that I had quit work at that time of day and in such a hurrying time ; but he said nothing, neither did I say anything to him about what I intended to do, although I wondered what he would think when he found out that he had lost both of his boys, with nearly all of the harvest still to be gathered. Upon reaching the house I had not the heart to eay anything to mother about it, although quite sure that she would approve of my purpose, although it would cause her many a pang. Hur- riedly changing my clothes, I made my way rapid- ly to the little village of Clifton Park, close at hand, and securing a team and wagon made ar- rangements for taking a load of men and boys ac- companied by fifers and drummers and flags and singers to a war meetihg which was to be held that night in the church in the village of Half Moon, only a few miles away. Similar meeti'ngs were beitg held in the churches in all the neigh- boring villages to secure volunteers for Captain Smith's new company. The church was crowded with people. The pulpit and walls were covered with flags. Stir- ring speeches were made by George B. Lorrihier, of Boston, and Captain Smith. Patriotic songs were sung by the glee clubs, the bands played, and the pastior of the church kissed the flag draped behind the pulpit, pledging hitaself as a volunteer in the company, and his congregation to eternal fidelity to the Union. There was wild enthusiasm, and the scene was indescribable. Volunteers were then called for. and enlistment papers were passed do'wn the aisles for tlie par- pose of giving the boys a chance to enlist. All were watching with intiense interest to see who would volunteer. Some of those who did enlist were pretty old men, nevertheless we called them aH "boys." The pastor of the church passed down the aisle where I was seatied with one paper, but did not offer it to me as he did to the others. I had come down on purpose to enlist and needed no urging, but I suppose he tho,ught I liooked too young and boyish for a soldier. His ideal of a soldier was a great broad-chested stal- wart man about forty years of age. This ideal he slightly modified later on. The superintend- ent of the Sunday-school, Samuel Peters, who was also the leading physician, was going out as one of the surgeons of the regiment. The neighbor- ing Methodist prea_cher, Eev. S. W. Clemins, an eloquent speaker and patriotic man, put his name down as a private, afterward becoming the only chaplaili the regiment ever had. The superin- tendent of his Sunday-school followed his exam- ple. These enlistments of representative men had a powerfuli influence. I was indignant; "Father Abraham'' was call- ing tor the boys to come and help save the country, and I was not even asked to enlist. Subduing my feelings as much a^ possible, I called the pastor back and asked him to let me see his paper, which he reluctantly did, when I quickly put my name down. " Enlisted for three years, or during the war;" supposing, how- ever, that it was only for two years. My cousin, who said he would enlist if I did, was- seated right behind me, so I turned round and requested him to put his name down, but he quietly said he guessed not. However, the next morning, before I was out of bed, he wa& in my bedroom, and then and there enlisted as a drummer boj\ He was my first recruit. I confess that there were times in the years- that followed when I almost regretted having, called the pa-stor back. KECRUITING- FOR MEX. Bright and early the next morning, after in- forming father and mother of what I had done- and gaining their approval, I started out with, enlistment papers to visit the boys and men of my acquaintance on the surrounding farms. I told them the simple story of my enlistment, and asked them to volunteer, which they nearly all did, although the farmers would be obliged to- call upon the mothers and daughters to help, secure the harvest, since the boys were nearly all going to the war. It is indeed a wise and merciful provision of Providence that men cannot foresee the events of the future, although some of the boys who- enlisted that day did not fare so badly. Orlando Swartwout got up from his dinner table and, while talking at the door for a moment, put down his name, served clean through the war, was wounded twice, and is now a. prosperous batuker in an Ohio city. James W. Hicks, son of the patriotic Justice of the Peace, I found in the barn ; he said he would go ; as he was only seventeen, we stepped over to his father's office to get his writt^en consent, which was readily given, although the Judge thought James pretty young ; our comrade came back home in a coffin. Peter Butler lived the fourth house from us; and although Peter became one of the company cooks he always carried a gun in battle, and at the charge of Fort Gilmer seized the flag Avhon the color-sergeant fell, rand gallantly led the regiment until he, too, fell, wounded. Com- ing back home again, lilie many more, he found his occupation gone, so with a large family of small cliildren he moved to the city to get work. He tried, but faileo learn the cause. I saw an unexpected scene. In an open space of ground on the edge of a piece of woods in our immediate front was a long and heavy skirmish line of the enemy. An equal number of the boys in blue were advanc- ing to driVe them back. After a stubborn fight the enemy disappeared into the woods. In that wood lay concealed in ambuscade an army of 16,- 000 men drawn hurriedly from Georgia, North and South Carolina and Florida. The treetops were swarming with expert riflemen who soon, did fearful execution. We were soon to receive our first great baptism of blood. Our batteries of artillery went thundering past and disappeared in the woods. We heard thera fire once or twice ; then there was a sharp rattle of musketry for a few moments, and all was as stUl as death— painfully, oppressively silent. The sharpshooters had done their deadly work. The batteries were annihilated, the horses were all shot and piled up in heaps, and the officers and men were nearly all killed and wounded. The infantry were now ordered forward at a double quick in great liaste. Our regimei'it num- bered 578, all told, officers and men, and was under the command of Colonel Samraons, who rode up and down the line during the battle, though desperately wounded. Of this num- ber, during the next three hours more than 300 men were killed or wounded. The odds against us were desperate. It seemed madness lor us to attack. Nevertheless, we almost won, yet lost the battle. The valor of no 5,000 men an earth could ever have gained the day. Oh, for a reinforcement of 5,000, or even 2,000, men equally brave to come to our support at sun- down I Then we might have won. Our two file leaders and the tallest men in our company that day were Philip Link and Charles H. Mulliken. If Ihey had not been so tall, perhaps they might both have been alive to-day. Charlie was youiig and strong, and seemed sure of a long life, but he was the first one to die, shot through the head as we were charging upon the foe. It seemed cruel LIBEAEY or TEIBUNE EXTRAS. to leave his body alone, although, his spirit had fled. His father, the village blacksmith, waiting in Ms declining years for his son's return, would never again see the arm of his stalwart son striking the anvH in his shop. Philip Link was an old, white-haired man ; he was destined never to go back to run the old gristmill at home, lor while ih the front line of battle a rifleman in a treelop fixed his gaze on the old man, and, raising his rifle, fired. Uncle Philip turned black in the face, threw up his hands amd fell forward, shot through the head. Our dead were never buried and their bones bleached under the Southern sky. George D. Cole, shot through both thighs, the left leg and body, was left on the field to die. But he fought oft" the buzzards, and alter lying on the field for three days and spend- ing one month at Andersonville, he still lives and shovels coal. Our company was the color company and guarded the flags. The flags were beautiful ones, and had been presented to tlie regiment by the ladies at home at a cost of more than $1,000. We had promised never to allow them to be cap- tured by tjie enemy. The force in o,ur front tried hard to destroy the color guard and cut down the flags. Their riflemen took deadly aim and mowed down our men fearfully. Solid ranks charged, but were driVen back. How Charlie Fellows, of pur own company, and Peter J. Keck, of Company 1j, who held aloft the flags, ever escaped death God bimself only knows ; they ascribe their preser- vation to the protection and mercy of God. Brav£r men never lived. The rebels shook the Stars and Bars at us. Keck and Fellows waved our flags' in defiance. Then came an awful con- centrated leaden hail of death. Oscar L. Ackley was killed. James Wilson, another boy only seventjeen, the life of the company, the son of a widowed mother, having fired his own sixty rounds of ammunition away, secured a fresh supply from a dead comrade's cartridge box. Xievelling his gun for the sixty-first time, and seeing a dense mass of the enemy moving upon us, he said to Sergeant Gould in his usual pleasant way, " Which way shall I aim tjbis time, Alf." He took good aim, but never fired, for he feM among the slain and one of the bright lights of our campfire and weary marches had gone out forever. Eichard Francis had been an old sailor, but he must die ; and he fell dead at my feet with a great gaping wound, hiis blood and brains pouring out. In imagination I see the dreadful scene now as ■vividly as I did twentj'-seven years ago. Charlie De Graft was one of our nearest neigh- bora at home. A bullet struck him in the leg. After the battle he walked a littie way and then lay down in the woods, saying that he could go no farther. I begged of him to make an effort or he would never see home again, but he said he was more comfortable where he was, so he re- mained. They took him to Andersonville, where he died, starved t,o death, August 18, 1864. Three niore of the boys, badly wounded, died— James H. Gettings at Andersonville, Andrew Stewart at) Tallahassee and Wiliiam Taylor on the way to prison. Billy Smith, the jolly, good-natured German, left the Fatherland in order to escape military service there ; but he put on the blue, and we lost him at Olustee. Billy never Icnew what kUled him. Paul Englehart, a young German Roman Catholic, crossed himself and prayed audibly every time ho fired Ms gun, and he es- caped without a scratch. Among the wounded were Stone, Wing, Sampson, Plienix (drummer), Cudney, Connelly, Carr. Campbell, Brunswick, Van Ho u sen and Clark. Night came at last, putting an end to the carnage. Hardly a man had escaped some kind of wound. After firing away all of the ammuni- tion, including that found upon the bo'dies of the dead and badly wounded, the bleeding and ex- hausted survi'Tora slowly and sullenly fell liack, under cover of the darkness, sending cheers of defiance to the enemy, who were too badly punished to pursue with vigor. The month of May found us again in Virginia. Aaron Dillingham, the old Quaker farmer, whoj to the surprise of all, had enlisted in our com- pany, and who went about bidding everybody a pleasant goodby, not even forgetting the school children, had a dream, in which he learned that he would take part in only one battle, and that he would escape unharmed. His dream proved true, but soon after his return he died. The picture of the battle of which he dreamed was vividly T'resented before him. There were two heights, with a deep valley bet^veen. In the centre of tlie valle.v appeared a" railroad track. On ore height was a small army dressed in blue, and on the opposite one was a large army dressed in gra^. with many cannons. All at once the men in gray started down the hill ; then the men in bltie gave a wild cheer and charged down the other hillside, reaching the railroad trick first, when they instaiitl.y dropped behind an embankment and poured a withering fire into the hosts in gray, stopping their advance. In the mist he dimly saw a fight which chilled his blood -a large body of men in gray stealing around the flank of a regiment in blue, which seemed to be his own brothers, and he felt that they were lost, when suddenl.r a, fine-lookins young soldier from the midst of the regiment in blue rose up from the ground, and at a glance saw their peril, and ir- the face of a thousand bul- lets, gave the alarm : the men in blue cut their way through the hosts of gray and escaped, but many scores had fallon in the conflict, among the numl^er being the fine-looking young soldier, who had saved his brothers. This proved to be a description rl the battle of Chesterfield Heights and of our regiment, and the brave young soldier who saved the regimcut was E. Raymond Fonda, of our company. After numerous battles we reached the front of Petersburg. Charles Berry was killed at Cold Harbor. At Petersburg we charged at the right of the crater, wlien the big fort was blown up. NEARLY WIPED OUT. At the battle of Deep Bottom the regiment went into the fight with 175 muskets; after the fighting was over, only eighty men had been TRUE STORIES OF THE WAR FOR THE UNION. 9 left uninjured. Some of the bravest men in our •company lost their lives at Deep Bottom. At one time during- a desperate charge of the enemy a, part of tlie Union line was forced back, and our regiment, maintaining its position, was raked by a most deadly cross-fire. The enemy seemed de- termined to captui-e the colors; and color-bearers were shot down almost as fast as brave men <50uld spring forward and pick tliem up. But there seemed to be no lack of men in our and other companies to give away their lives lor the dear old flag. While attempting to plant Ills flag- on the rebel works, Sergeant Keck fell badly wounded ; but Sergeant Fellows, close by his side, held his own flag in one hand and with his other hand grasped the falling colors .and waved them triumphantly aloft. James K. P. Himes sprang forward and said : " Give me that flag'" Taking it in his hands, he shouted: "Come on boys!" and led the regiment. A bullet struck him in the breast and passed -tlirough his right lung, inflicting a mortal wound. He fell forward upon his face, and had just time to gasp : " Charley, I die for my country,'' when his brave spirit took its flight. There was a slight-built boy in our company with nerves of steel and great powers of en- durance, who never even took his ration of rum in the malarious districts of the Carolinas. Tlie boys made light of this at the time, but were sorry -afterward that they did so. He was a lovely •Christian youth, who never missed a day's duty or a single battle. His name was Abbott C. Musgrove. His love of country and flag bordered on the sublime. It Avas sure and certain death to any one who should dare to raise the flag again ; but, without a moment's hesitation, this youth once again raised it on high. A bullet crashed through his brain, and he said, "I -die happy." The boys managed to carry him from the field and, wi-apped in his suit of blue, they laid him aAvay in a narrow grave, and many were the tears that were shed. In this terrible struggle we suffered nearly an irreparable loss. Captain Smith, who had hitherto -shared •with the company in all its perils, and -originated and led it in many daring and suc- oessful undertakings, received various wounds. His arm, -was sliot to pieces and he escaped with his life by the narrowest chance. He was unable to do further service. No braver officer served in the Union Army. George Van Der Cook lost his arm ; •George Houghtaling was wounded and captured. Ambrose Fowler and otliera were wou-nded. The flags were saved from capture but with much -difficulty and at a great cost. On the 29th of September our regiment aided in storming Fort Gilmer and carried the works in its front, obtaining possession of a vital point. Two days later General I^ee moved his best tioi ps and made a most determined assault to retake the works, but was disastrously repulsed with the loss of many battle flags and the destruction of a whole brigade. Sergeant Fellows was a big man, weighing at least 240 pounds, and had a big heart. He carried one stand of colois in every •battle from Olustee to Fort Gilmer and won lasting ^lory and renown. He usually kept away in ad- vance of the regiment. He planted his flag on the enemy's worlcs at Cohl Harbor and in the milst of a fearful storm of grape and canister gained the crest of Cemetery Hill at the riglib of the crater and held his flag there. In every engagement he was a hero. At Fort Gilmer we lost him. While charging the "great fort, his right leg was aliattered, and in the clianging fortunes of the day he had to be left on tiie field, although the boys tried hard to carry him off. After lying tliere for twenty-four hours the rebels performed a wetched amputation, which did not wring from him a single groan. He was sent to Annapolis under parole and his wife and father saw him die. He was buried with military honors at his old home in Slechanicville, where he sleeps by tlie side of the gallant Ellsworth. On the day of the funeral all business in the, village was sus- pended and the town was wi-apped in mourning. Above the pulpit in the church a beautiful in- scription read : " He gave up his life his country to save. And claimed for the sacrifice only a grave. '' Lieutenant Filkins was my old tent-mate. We fought side by side and we drank out of the same canteen. He was wounded at Petersburg, and he now sleeps in the Union Cemetery at Crescent with Abram Filkins and John Silver- nail. On each Decoratiibn Day Ave place flowers on his grave, which is all that we can do. G«orge Alexander was killed at Darbytown road. Benjamin Thackerah had his leg shattered and Almin E. Stone his arms. Sergeant Van Housen was badly wounded twice. The regiment was in the first expedition to Fort Fisher under General Butler, and came near being lost at sea in a great storm off the coast of North Carolina. A HOKRIBLE EXPLOSION. On the night of January 3, 1865, it marched through a di'lA^ng snow storm to Bermuda Hun- dred.s, Va., and embarked on the second expedi- tion to Fort Fisher under General Terry. On Sunday, January 15, after seven hours of desper- ate fighting, the strongest fortification in America and many prisoners were captured. The next morning at 8 o'clock a dreadful catastrophe oc- curred. While our regiment) with some others of the brigade were eating breakfast, the main magazine of the fort over which they were rest- ing exploded with a terrible noise, wounding, bruising and burying alive nearly the whole brig- ade. Our regiment wit)h its small force lost 110 men in killed, wounded and buried alive. Some of the boys were buried twenty feet beneath the mass of falling shells, timbers and earth, and Avere never found. George T. Hoag and John R. Watt, though wounded, were fortunate enough to be rescued from a horrible death. The southern fever and kindred diseases carried oft' many comrades— Everetts, House, Richardson, Shepherd, Richards, Hennigan, Near, Du^an, Abel. Gettings and Higgins, HOME, 20 STRONG, OUT OF IGO. At last the cruel war Avas over. Tlie last enemy had surrendered, and gallant Company H, which had had 1(50 officers and men on its rolls, marched tlirough the streets of the capital city of the 10 LIBRAJ?Y OF TEIJ3UXE EXTBAS. Empire State homeward bound wFth two tattered and battJe-stained flags, but without a single oflficer and with only twenty of the boys. Since that happy day some have crossed over the river We shall never again hear the eloquent and per suasive voice of Chaplain Clemens, the fighting chaplain, for he has gone to his reward. We never shall forget how badly Sam Seymour felt when transferred to a regular battery, but he got through all riglit, and came back; but one day poor Sam was t"oo sick to drive his team on the horsecar and went home to die. Bayard and Kelley AJlen, Look Northrup and Henry Sbants have all been "mustered out." Fred S. Goodrich left us to be a captain in Colonel Higginson's colored regiment, and he is now in Washington knocking at the door of the House for admission as Con- gressman-elect from the De Land District in Florida. Mogt of the boys are getting old and gray Isaac v. Irish, with onlj^ one eye, is working at his trade at nearly fourscore years. Peter Folinsbee is a pensioner upward of eighty years of age. Johnny IMulligan, a mighty man on picket, with a voice which on a still night could be heard for half a mile, who was the delight of the grand rounds, is, I think, the oldest survivor of the war, being more than 100 years of age. Eleven of the very bravest and best men in the com- pany through some protecting Providence managed to go through the storm of battle to the end cf the war -without serious wounds, and thes** living heroCvi claim a place on fhe rolls of fame. They are comrades Gould, Gorliam, William S. Clemens (son of the chaplain), Honsinger, Halpin, Lappens, Andrew Smith, Steinburffh. Ezra Stone, J. H. Van DerCook and Horace Wing. We are now scattered, and our number is growing smaller. As we meet at our annual reunion only eight or ten of the "boys," and some of these from distant States, are able to meet to talk over the times wliich tried men's sonls. Our last reunion on earth will soon be lield, and in a few years we shall all have passed over to the silent majority — (J. H. Clark. SIX BOYS FEO:\I ONE FAMILY. l\Iiddlefield, Ohio, Jan. 2G.— I was born and raised a Eepublican, my fatlier, John Bower, being one of the old-time Free Soilers, and a rank Abolitionist. He entertained and helped to run off many a poor "fugitive" from his cruel taskmaster when I was a child at home. He also raised six sons, five of whom enlisted iti the Union Anny as soldiers. The sixth one, Eli Bower, would have done the same, but his father was getting old and refused to let him go. However, when there was a dearth of workingmen for the Government the father con- sented to let Eli go as a mechanic. Eli was sent to Chattanooga to work on bridges. He there contracted malarial fever, which resulted in his death September 4, 1865. Daniel C. Bower, of the 105th O. :M. I., was shot and killed at the battle of Chickamauga, Decem- ber 19, 1863. He was only twenty-two years old. Three of my brothers in all went into that terrible fight— B. F. Bower, commonly called "Frank," my oldest brother, David C. and John L. Robert S. Bower was in the 0th Ohio and in all the hard fought battles in which the 9th Ohio was engaged. He was one of the very first to enlist under the first call by President Lincoln for three months' men. He served out the time and re-enlisted tor three years, or during the war. The- 9th was not, as I understand it, m that fight. Of the three brothers at Chickamauga only one came out unhurt, and that one lost lii& captain. Brother David was killed. Frank was struck on the left shoulder by a piece of shell, knocked dowji and suppof-ed to have been Idlled ; but he recov- ered, crawled back on his hands and knees to an ambulance and was taken to the hospital. When he was able to go he was sent home on parole. He left us a stout, healthy man; he returned to us eimply a skeleton. We do not know where the- body of David now lies. John was an orderly on General Hazen's staflf, but was put into the ranlcs in times of battle. He had a hors and, no doubt, for their own. "Tell yer what, honey," said the old woman, "de ole man an' mo tought we was done gone shuah. Yer could a heard our hearts beat like de hammer in \1e ole forge down at de corners. We'uns lay jes' as still as possums tel de soun' ob de hufs way off was small, den we put on jes' as hard as we'uns could go." Xear this point the road divides, one fork lead- ing to the left, the other to the right pass, which are about a mile apart. The left road again branches, but reunites at the pass. These three various roads necessitated three parties. For one moment the ferocious pursuers halted. " Give me the road that leads to the rigiit pass!" shouted Legare. "I have a scent like a bloodhound. I know which way the sikulking Yankee has gone. I'll follow the d Abolition- ist to h ! " " I'll take the left branch !" cried young Living- .stone; "^^'ith Joe Hepson. You, Wade Barton, with the rest, follow the centre road ! ■* Away they dashed with renewed fury. Legare's thoroughbred was reckoned the best horse in Vir- ginia, and he fairly flew over the road, lit up by the terrible lightning, for a dark tempest wa« already soughing tlirough the mountain pines, which seemed as if moaning for the terrible deeds so near at hand. Aunt Chloe and her husband plodded along as fast as they could in the dark- ness, rendered more dismal by the fitful llashes. Suddenly, just as they came to the forks above men- tioned, and chose the road to the left pass, their timid ner\-es were startled by the report of a pistol at some distance to the right, followed shortly by another. Then all was stiU. "O, Lawd!" ejaculated the frightened negroes^ clinging to each other as tliey pressed forward. " One shot kill po' missy, an' one de good Cunnei. Now where will we 'uns go?" Soon their alarm was increased by a loud re- 14 LIBRAEY OF TRIBUNE EXTRAS. port as of a g-un some distance ahead of them. Bewildered as they were, they kept on, and after -some time reached the entrance to the left pass. A TERRIBLE TRAGEDY. Dim and unreal in the darkness of the forest they found the sobered pursuers standing dis- mounted around the ghastly corpse of Otis Liv- ingstone. He had reached the pass— his compan- ion, Joe Hepson, close behind— just as Wade Barton with Ms followers emerged from the other road. Mistaking Lhem for Colonel Lynn and Isabel, and thinking that they were escaping. Barton took aim with his carliine, fired, and Otis fell. Retribution was reaping a beautiful har- vest. In a few minutes the old father rode up. ' O, m.v Isabel ! " lie moaned ; " and my son ! I have deserved all this and more." Sinking beside the body, all his pride and" passion gone, he showed scarcely more of life than his slauglitered son. A terrible storm roared through the mountains, but -they heeded it not as they bore homeward the dead and the dying. The oM people, with slave-like devotion, returned to nurse tlie old man- the last of his name. He lived but a few weeks, and when the Union army returned they started North. " But, my old friends," I said, " what of Legare tind the Colonel and Isaliel?" "Oh, dat bad man Legare!"' cried Aunt Chloe with , uplifted hands. "Did he kill my dear missy en' her lubber? Hje nebber tell till de angel " here 'tho,ut anythin' to Live on. He coaxed Henery an' Julius to stay home, by seUin' off the critters an' some other fixin's. Buti they say no^ but Jimmy must stay, an' so nuther iwas willin' toe have tuthers go an' git killed.' " 'I reckon you'uns don't 'zactly understan' 'bout buying out ?' said the sergeant, turning to the Federals. " 'Noj we don't !' was the repl5^ "Well, it's the conscriptin' law that ev'ry one 'tween seventeen an' fofty-five he's got toe go intK)e the wah unless he is able toe pay outn of it. The sum at fust wus three hundred dolla's. Tliem as couMn't raise the money had toe go fo'' sho'. So you see this is why we'uns call itj a rich man's wah an' a po' man's fight. " Now, ol' Mother Ky"by's was sich a oncommoit fine place toe stay at that we'uns wa'n't in no great hurry toe ketch the lay-outs, an' besides i1» wus so close ontoe Christmas that we'uns knowed ef we stayed thar we'uns wus bound toe have a good time. " 'iMistah Sa'gent,' says ol' Mother Nyby toe me three days afo' Christmas, 'I feel pow'ful bad this mo'nin', an' it's jes' this way : My own po' boya haint missed bein' home on T-hristmas Day since they wus bo'n, an' it; grieA-es me toe think they dassent come home this one.' " 'Yes, mother,' says T, 'it is a downright pity they'uns can't be with you, fo' me aa' my men is a-gwine toe cross the Pee-Dee, an' won't get back afo' sundown that day, an' I reckon you anT Bashee will liave a lonesome kinder time unless you 'vite in some fren'sl' She looked at me quick like, an' seed what I meatnti, an' got smart an' peart agin right away. "We'uns got toe Imow a heap sight of people down thar, an' all 'bout thar fambly hist'ries— way back toe the ol' Eev'lution Wah. An* we find the Mister Wines'es, what ol' Mother Nyby spoke of, 'wus the riches' man tha'bouts, an' p'raps the meanes' one, too : a takin' ev'ry 'vantage of hig neighbors' need'cessities, an* makin' piles of money very fas'— a buyin' up stuff fo' the Govment— bein' a contractor. His neigh- bors said as how his grand'ther wus a Tory, an' fou't with the British agin we'uns in the ol' wah. His son Harry was a shinin' up toe Bashee Nyby, an' as you'uns will see aiter awhile in my story, it was .'cause he an' his daddy wanted the Nyby lan's mo' than he did Bashee; who is the pooties', goodes', sweetes' an' shyes' gal toe be foun' 'roun' 'bout anywhar! TEUE STOEIES OF THE WAR FOR JHE UNION. 17 " On the mornin', two days ufo' Christmas, ilister Wines'es dcgs struck a deer trail on the mountain hack o' his plantation, an' Harry Wines. a gittin' down his refle, 'lowed he'd follow them. He kept arter the chase fo' a smart bit, p'r'haps fo' eight 0' ten mileses, an' it led him up a little creek atween two mountains. Stoppin' by a big stone he sot down toe rest a spell, an' toe listen which way the dogs wns a makin' fo'. All toe oncet he seed a smoke an' hyea'd a pa'cel of men a talkin' an' a laughin' in a lau'el thiclcet right down below him. Hasty gettin' down an' creepin' fo'ards he peered undah the laii'els an' thar wus live o' the layouts settin' roun' a fiah an' eatin'. Three of 'em avus tlie Nyby boys an' the tothers wus John and Joe Paulson, boys of Widow Paulson, a cluss neighbor of Mother Nyby's. Quick crawlin' back, Harry Wines lit out fas' fo' home, an' tol' his daddy. They'uns got a pa'cel of frien's with ther guns an' started arter the layouts, instid of a tellin' we'uns. " When the layouts wus a done eatin' Jim an' Henery Nyby an' the Paulson boys lay down on ther bed of leaves toe sleep; fo' they'd a been trampin' all niglit toe a frien'3 fo' rations; and Jule. ther younges' Nyby, 'loud he'd go up the creek a ways an' ketch some fish fo' supper. AH of a suddent, while he was nuietly a waitin' an' a watchin'^ fo' a bite, he hyearn a dry stick snap, an' lookin' up he seed a string of men a stealin' down 'round the tliicket. Givin' a loud shout of warnin' he dashed up an' back in the woods, quick as a buck, with a couple 0' bullets a' whistlin' past liim. The tother boys run outn the thicket, but wus too late as they'uns wus s'rounded an' had toe give up. Ol' man Wines an' his men tuck them down the mountain, toe a old mill an' penned them up in the loft till evenin'. He then tol' his men it was no use an need fo' all of they'uns toe go back ten mileses to whar we'uns wus, as by a tyin' the boys' ban's an' a ropin' them together he could fotch them back to we'uns easy. "The nex' mo'nin' Harry Wines come over, an' 'ealliii' me out, n'l-ated a excitin' storv as how his da/ldy was a bringin' in fo' layouts when they'uns ma ^'^'; , outlaw earnestly. CI orus— So come along 1 Oh, won't you comet Please come along, sweet Liza Jane I «Otha' ones may yo' speak so fai', an' praise yo'r eyes of pretty brown ; But he who says the hun'yes' word, kin alius make the blgges' frown 1 Ef yo'll coTie an' grace my home, tha' yo', my own "An' I reckon, since I'm gwine toe marry Bashee, that I'll have a hand in the racket 1" exclaimed the sergeant with an enthusiastic look. "Yes, an' it's we'uns duty toe stan' by our comrnandah I " chimed in all of the outlaws. " Hurrah ! Hurrah 1 Here's a motto for you : -^ . „ ^ v,-.,wM,r„ Wlieeler-men shoulder to shoulder 1" shouted dea' queen, shall reign- ... , . . ,0 rn at «1t^ ^^-i^- Then hyea' me now— es she's yo'r bo'n, 1 won't come Brower in his tlun voice.— (o. I . iVLumy, AUjii. back tv> yp' again! 184th Penn. Inf., Meratock, N. C. Chorus— So come along 1 Oh, won't you comet Please come along, sweet Liza Jane 1 * "Red-horse," a species of fish foxuid in headwaters ot the Great Pee-Dee River. TRUE STOEIES OF THE WAE FOR THE UNION. 19 THE WRECK AND IHE RESCUE. AN EXPERIENCE OFF HATTERAS. THE STORY OF AN OLD RIVER STEAMBOAT, WHICH SHOULD NEVER HAVE PUT OUT UPOSr THE DEEP SEA. Toward the last of October, 1861, accompanied bj' martial music, a battalion of United States Marines, under the command of Major Reynolds, left the Marine BarraclfS at Washington. After marcliing through some of the streets of that city they took passage on the TJrut^d States steamer Pawnee. Toward evening the vessel left her wharf, and, moving slowly down the river, dropped her anchor. Under cover of darkness her living freight was transferred to an old produce steamer, which made her regular trips upon the Potomac. The policy of this movement was not apparent until early the next morning, when she passed a battery planted on the river's bank, with the Pawnee two or three miles in her wake. The eyes of the enemy were evidently fixed upon the Pawnee ; and the ruse which had been resorted to to get the 400 marines safely past the battery was not discovered until it was too late. The old produce carrier had steamed leisurely past the battery unmolested, but as soon as the Pawnee came within range " bang ! " " bang I " " bang ! " Went the guns from the fort. In full view of the rebel battery, but out of range, the four companies of marines were again placed on the Pawnee, after which the steamer proceeded to Hampton Roads to join the fleet then fitting oul. for the Port Royal expedition. The vessel designated to convey the battalion of marines to its destination was an old side-wheel, walking-beam, river steamboat, bearing the assur- ing title of United States steamship Governor. This vessel, on November 1, 1861, with the rest of the expedition, put out to sea. Some of the boys being quite weU supplied with money, card playing was the order of the day. On the second or third morning out many sets of players could be seen scattered about the deck, engaged in their favorite amusement. About 9 a. m. the weather became thick and heavy, the vessel began to pitch and plunge, and one party of players after another went below deck. By noon there was not a single game in progress. The first intimation any one had that things were becoming serious was given by the crash of the falling smokestack and its disappearance over the side of the vessel into the sea. Some time after that incident oc- curred a portion of one of the masts was carried away. As the time wore on something became disarranged in connection with one of the steam- pipes, and finally the rudder failed to lo its duty. The vessel, wallowing in the trough of the sea. was then wholly at the mercy of the waves. After bein^r subjected to the terrible strain of tumbling about on the waves for a number of hours the beams of the vessel began to jerk back and forth with the motion of the vessel, produc- ing ominous creaking souuds, as though there were not a timber in the whole ship which was not being twisted all into splinters. The feelings of those 400 men in that rickety, creaking vessel can be imagined. If, after pass- ing through such an ordeal, their hair had turned white, no one would have been surprised. It is said that the soldiers of the war die very young. With the experience which many of them had, la it any wonder ? The motion of the beams opened large seams between the planking, and permitted the water to pour into tlie vessel. Those who have never been in such a situation have only a faint conception of the feelings which such sur- roundings produce. To prevent immediate disaster. large ropes were fastened to the walking-beams and then secured to some substantial support. This kept them stead.y and. to some extent, stuppcj the water from coming in. At daylight the next morning, after a night of terrible suspense, we could not discover a vessel of the entire expedition. The men determined, liowever, not to go down witho.ut making many heroic efforts for life. Large bailing parties were formed, leading from the deck down each gang way to the water below. As one set of men be- came exhausted, it was relie%"ed by another. With an ordinary crew the vessel could not have been kept afloat for twenty-four hours, but with 100 athletic young men in the prime of life, con- scious that their safety depended on their o,wn exertions, the prospect for life was a little more promising. Tlio elements, however, had no respect fot strength or numbers. Sea after sea broke over the disabled vessel during the many weary hours of daylight and darkness which followed. The boat trembled and reeled in her struggles. The deeper she plunged and the higher she was tossed the wider became the opening seams and the more the water rushed in, rendering increased exertion necessary to keep it from rising above the point of danger. That there must have been great pri- ration is evident from the fact that the danger admitted of no" opportunity to prepare anything to eat, or to partake of it if it had been prepared. The strain then began to tell on those who were engaged in the struggle for life. One man did so far lose his balance as to determine to put an end to the suspense ; he plunged headlong into the sea, where any attempt to rescue him was utterly impossible. At this critical point, the anxiety of the en- dangered men was in a measure relieved by the appearance of the small gun-boat Isaac Smith, which, after much difficulty, succeeded in passing a hue to the disabled vessel. The hopes excited by her efforts to render assistance were destined to be of short duration. Owing to the greater weight of the disabled vessel, there was danger of her pulling the gun-boat under the water and her destruction. To prevent this, the hawser with which she had taken the Governor in tow was severed, and she steamed away out of sight, leaving those in the disabled vessel more hopeless than before. After a few hours another sail appeared in sight. This proved to be the sloop of war Young Rover. A small sailing vessel, amid the tre- mendous sea that was then running, would not 20 LIBRAEY OF TEIBUXE EXTRAS. be expected to render any assistance. Eealizing her inabilit.v to afford the much-needed help, slie turned and gradually drew away. She was watclied until she became a mere speck : and when that speck disappeared beneath the horizon, more than one pent-up sob became audible among the men. Cruising off Cape Hatt«ras at that time was the United States frigate Sabine. All at once, the shrill whistle of the boatswain was heard upon her gun deck ; and a minute later voices resounded fore and aft : " AH hands make sail. " In an instant every man sprang to his duty. All was excitement, turmoil and confusion. Sail after sail was flung out to the breeze, rope after rope was hauled taut, and studding-sail after studding-sail was added to the already excessive and dangerous amount of canvas wliich was sweeping the vessel onward over the mighty deep. Captain Eingold was well nigh omnipresent in every part of the ship, liis presence animating the men to do their duty. Tlie object of this bustle, though to them still unknown, was something of great importance. Ihey were pui-suing a vessel, which carried at first the French flag: then, becoming more audacious, the English flag ; finally the Rebel flag was seen waving from her mast. All these manoeu- vres tended to increase the speed of her pursuer. As hour after hour passed away, the race between the two vessels was almost evenly divided J each, with great tenacity, holding her own. Presently, resounding from the cross-trees of the Sabine, came the cry, " Sail ho.'' From the officer on deck went back the inquiry, " Where away ?" The answer was returned " Right ahead, sir.'' " Can you make her out ?" " Steamer, sir. Dis- mantled, SU-. In distress, sir." While this discovery was being made the vessel which was being pursued had shortened sail, hove to and run up the Stars and Stripes. It was the United States sloop of war Young Rover, which by her skilful tactics had been successful in leading the Sabine onward to the rescue. By her disap- pearance in the morning she had left 400 men in the agonies of despair, Vut before the day was brought to a close she had again inspired them with hope. She had accomplished a good day's work and was deserving of all the thanks she re- ceived. The disabled and much distressed steamship Governor was now in plain sight from the decks of the Sabine, and that noble vessel sped on to the rescue with every throbbing heart in her gal- lant crew determined to do its best and lend willing aid. To say that the hopes of the exhausted men on the disabled vessel were renewed feebly expresses what the.y felt. The first utterance which reached their listening ears through Captain Ringold's speaking trumpet as the Sabine was sweeping past within hailing distance, under full sail, was the command, " Drop your anchor." The effect produced upon the men to whom these words were addressed was akin to that which must have been realized by the man to whom a still greater Cap- tain gave the command to " come forth, " more than 1,800 years before. No sooner was the com- mand given than it was obeyed. After shortening sail and tacking, the Sabine drew up and anchored as close ahead of the disabled vessel as the circumstances would permit. By the time darkness liad set in a Jacob's ladder had, with much difficulty, been constructed between the two vessels and the sick taken to a place of safetJ^ It was the intentian to continue the work of rescue as rapid] j* as possible during the night until -ill had been saved, but the elements, as if determined not to be cheated out of their victims, interposed and cut the work of rescue short. By a combination of events which seemed to have been purposely arranged, the full weight of both the vessels was brought to bear on the hawsers which constituted the Jacob's ladder and snapped them asunder as though they had been pieces of twine. Nothing now remained ex- cept to endure another long night of dread and suffering, during which the struggle for life had to be renewed with redoubled energy. One incident which proved fatal to some and came very near lieing equally destructive to all occurred about midnight. Some one, without any authority, shouted to the Sabine that the Gov- ernor was sinking. Supposing it to be true, the captain of that vessel gave the order to pay out her cable and drop down by the side of the Governor, so as to give what chance he could for those on board of her to be saved. Here again the fury of the elements was felt, and the ves- sels dashed together with such force as to make it apparent that a few repetitious of that con- tact would bring swift and certain destruction on the Governor. The capstan on the Sabine was therefore hastily manned and she was di-awn back to her original position. Wliile the vessels were in contact a number of the men on the bows of the Governor made a leap for life. Some of them landed on the deck of the Sabine and some in the rigging, and others fell iu the water between the two ships. In an instant all kinds of JTghts, red, blue, green and white, were shedding theu- rays upon t!ie surface of the sea. If to the sights and sounds of the night there could have been added rolling clouds of smoke, one could easily have imagined t}mt he was standing upon the verge of hades and gazing down upon the shrieking and writMng agony below: Those who beheld the scene there pre- sented witnessed something they will never for- get. Many of the men in the water were saved, but a few were lost. Early the next morning the work of rescue was resumed. A boat v/ith its crew was successfully lowered from the Sabine, and by means of a rope it was drifted down to within twenty or thirty feet from the Governor. Had the boat, by any mishap, been permitted to strike against the Gov- ernor, she would have been smashed into splinters and her crew inevitably lost. A line was thro^vn to the boat, and one man at a time^ sliding down into the water, worked himself along as best he could to the boat, into which he was lifted by the crew. When the boat wa"s full it was pulled by the sailors on the Sabine to the stern of that ship. Slipnooses were then placed around the men and they were hoisted to the bulwarks. Na TRUE STORIES OF THE WAR FOR THE UNION. 21 !ang-uage can portray the feeliugs whicli this end- den transition from imminent clanger to a place of safety' produced in their minds. During the en- tire day until about 4 or 5 o'clock in the afternoon was the process of rescue continued, when the last man loft the poor old sinking ship. Before darkness had again set in all tliat \vas left of the steamship Governor had gone down amid the surging billows to the bottom of the sea. With many thanlcs to the little gunboat Isaac Smith for her good intentions; with admiration for the sloop of war Young Rover, on account of the strategic movements; and with hearts over- flowing with gratitude toward Captain Ringold and his noble crew, for saving them from a watery grave, all except six of that exhausted and un- fortunate company were safely resting on the decks of the Sabine.— (George Pritchett. TOLD AT THE SUGAR CAMP. THE GENERAL'S RAILROAD TRAIN. SHERMAN KNEW, AFTER ALL. Beloit, Kan., Dec. 23.— While our syuad of captives were "raiding" through North 'Carolina and Virginia, we fell in company with an old Virginian, who said he was furloughed from Hood's arnij- in Atlanta, and was goiug horn 3 to visit his family. We talked of many things, but his greatest concern was about the duration unci result of the Avar. He expressed doubts of Southern succe!>s, and seemed to wish for peace, no matter which way it sliould turn. In order to draw him out I talked encouragingly. " Ah ! " said he, " I know it's no use to struggle, for it's all retreat, and we are about giving up Atlanta. " I feigned surprise, and declared it impossible: lor if so, •' Good-by, Confederacy : " Said he : " I know it's to be evacuated ; for I've seen the big guns and ammunition gouig away on the raUroad, while logs are being put on the breastworks and forts." H-e again sighed and said he was discouraged, and then added: "The war has lasted 90 long that it has discouraged everj-bodj-. " Before evening one of our scjuad made a remark wMch excited his suspicion, and caused him to rask if I was not a Confederate ; " for, " said he, " I supposed from the uniform that you were a Vir- ginia oflicer in the old style regimentals .' " 'Sly ■clothing had not been confiscated when taken. My reflection and concla&ion was that if he had known me as a Federal he would not have been so communicative. Some ten days or two weeks after, at Fortress Monroe, we heard the glorious news of the evacua- tion of Atlanta, and we then concluded that the Virginian had been very obserAant. Sequel: In 187 7 Hamilton. Illinois, made a Fourth of July celebration, wlach was graced by the presence of General Sherman and two of liis staff. General R. F. Smith acted as muster of ceremonies, and when my turn came in introduc- tion I said: "General, I prececfed you through North Caroliiia, and perhaps knew of the evacua- tion before you." After the ceremonies he asked how my opera- tions in his advance had l>eau conducted, and I briefly narrated the story. '• Well, " said he, " that is good ; but I did know aU about it from many deserters and contrabands, and was not surjmsed when it happened.*'— (R. P. Kendall. A RIDE WHICH IS XOT A.S FAMOUS AS SHERt- DAVS. 1;LT was quite AS EXCITING IX -MAXV REJECTS. Back Bay P. O., Boston, Dec. 20.— Tliey were seated around a glowing campfire, and it was Uncle Ralph's turn to relate a story or an ad- A'^enture. Outside the camp the night was still and cold, and the bright, clear moonlight revealed the dark figures hoA-ering around the sagai maples. Inside all was light and warmth and comfort, and the ruddy blaze brought out, in vivid con- trast with the roughly built camp, the strange and picturesciue costumes in which the boys had arrayed themseh'es for their Aveek in a sugar forest. They were seated now, pans of sugar in the hands of oacii, on opposite sides of the huge, roaring fire; and the eyes of +he eight rested upon the face of Jack Bundi 's Uncle Ralph. "My turn," said Uncle Ralph, 'rnd my stories all told!" "Tell about that ride," prompted Jaclc. "Not Sheridan's, but your"s. " "We'd like that OA-ery night!" said Ihe others. Uncle Ralph, in whose closet hung a captain's uniform, was a hero in the boys' ejes He had serA-ed during the entire war, l\ad languished in Libby Prison, had l>een thrici- -.vounded, and yet neA-er spoke of any ef his gr.nd exploits, unless, as now, he yielded to their demands and related to them some adA-enture of the war. Uncle Ralph then told his story. Well, boj-s, at the time of the battle, Avhich was fought at B., and with the details of which you are all familiar, I was on the staff of General Y., who was then in command of our Third Bri- gade. He was a man of brilliant and intrepid courage, and also upon, fortunately, rare oc- casions, a man of the most reckless determination. We had marched for two days. Following the line of the K. and D. Railroad, we had as we proceeded destroyed it. At nightfall of the second day our men, haA-ing tramped thirty miles through rain and excessiA'e heat, were greatly exhausted. PereeiA-ing this. General Y. ordered a halt and a distribution of rations. On the night preceding our march he had receiA^ed this dispatch: " iNtarcIi the 2^th oA-er the K. and D. Railroad to P., destroying road. At Q. Junction leaAe railroad and strike across countrA' to P.. saA-ing men a march of twenty miles. Reach P. by daybreak of 26th. Hold command in readi- ness for attack, but aAvait orders to attack." At nightfall of the 2.5th, then, 'we were fortj* miles from P. if we folloAA-ed the railroad ; tAventy miles if Ave proceeded as instructeH. The dark- ness anr" the heat were intense, and the night set in Avith heaA-y rain and mist. In addition to these disadA-antages the air was charged with smoke from distant, burning Avoods. Under these circumstances our march was necessarily sIoav. At the end of an hour Ave entered a Avood which 22 LIBEAEY OF TEIBLTSTE EXTEAS was but a thick tangle of low, scrubby cedar trees, whose sharp-pointed, interlacing boughs caused many a loud exclamation and many a stumble. About 9 o'clock General Y. ordered a halt. Upon hearing it the men cheered feebly, and then, exliausted, flung tJiemselves upon the swampy ground to snatch vvhat little rest they could. Calling lus staff about him the General said : " We are making slow progress, and by daybrealr. even should we succeed in reaching P., the men wiU be in no condition for battle. We will therefore retrace our steps and go on to P. by raill" At this decision, so directly in defiance of orders, yet given in a calm, matter-of-fact voice, we were startled. After a brief silence Colonel B. said : "But, General, are you not assuming a great risk in acting against orders ? " " The risk is mine, " said the General. " I have decided. I will bear the responsibility and the consequences. " "I think you are right," I said; "we are in an unknown country, and we may flounder round and round in this black wood till daybreak. I ap- prove your decision, but. General, I have one question to ask." "And that is.?" " Who will run the engine ? " "I will!" A resounding laugh echoed through that, fog- enwrapped wood at this— a laugh in which pres- ently the General himself joined. The staff made no attempt to dissuade him from what to most seemed a mad project ; and in weary silence we retraced our way to Q. Junction. The troops were so tired with beating about in that well- nigh impassable wood that the Greneral ordered rations and absolute rest until 4 o'clock. "General," I said, venturing to remonstrate, " shall we reach P. at daybreak if we halt so long?" "We must make the run in half an hour," the General answered. " Over an utterly unkno-\\Ti road in this fog, —this pitchy darkness ? " " It will then be nearing daybreak. " "But— forty miles over a road that may not be in good repair ! " " War has its risks, " replied the General. Then putting his hand upon my shoulder, he added, " Go, now, my friend, and rest, and later you may bring a clear brain t.o the management of yonder engine." "What!" I stammered, "I assist you! Why, General, I know absolutely nothing about it." "Nor I," calmly. " Yet you mean to talce us over the road to P. ?" "I mean to take you over the road to P." " It is certain de-ith ! " " Oh, no ! " He then repeated Ms advice that I should seek rest and sleep, and, sad at heart and discouraged, I turned away. Meeting Colonel B., I e^ pressed my conviction that we should meet death, not iu battle, but on the rail. "Cheer up, my boy!" was his unexpectedly hearty answer. " When the General pitches into" a thing he's apt to p-it her through!" Fortunately for the General's suddenly con- ceived determination, a madeniJ train stood upoa the track— pa-- senger. baggage, freight cara^ coupled, abandoned, empty. Irto one of these I made my way. My brother officers were scat- tered, some smoking and pacing the narrow plat- form, some lying upon the hard benches in the desolate waiting-ruom, while others had followed the course pursued by the men and had flung themselves upon the grjund. Alone I abandoned myself to the thoughts I would not— could not— utter. When we reported at headquarters would the offence of our beloved General be overlooked, or Avould he, disgraced, be dismissed the service? This was the ques- tion that repeated itself over and over, and kept me wide, wide awake. For disobedience is a grave offence, mj^ boys. Presently I sjirang from my seat, and at the risk of giving offence I determined to seek the Geneial and implore him to listen to the thought which had just pre- sented itself. Here, there, ever.\"where, I looked for him. At last I found him-wheie? In the engine cab ! With head bared, coat thrown off, sleeves rolled up. he stood by the side of Jim, his colored servant, holding a candle, by whose feeble light Jim seemed to be examining the boiler. I sprang up the steps and entered the cab. "General," I said, in a low voice, "it has just now occurred to me that, among all our men- men of all trades, as they are— there must be one who could underetand this engine. Find that one, I implore you ! " " Would you have me rob all my men of the- sleep they so sorely need that I may find one to do this thing?" I accepted the rebuke in silence. "But," continued the General, "I think you may dismiss your fears. Jim tells me thfit he understands this monster, which shall soon throb with motion." "Yes, massa. Sure 'nouf, mas=a," said Jim,. rolling his e3"e8 as if to confirm his extraordinary statement. "Yes, massa, I knows." "How is that?" I asked. "I thought that all your life you had been upon a plantation ?" "Y'es, massa. But 'twas this way, massa. You see, ole massa, he own big part ob de rail- road what run troo our town, an' lie own big part ob de town, I specs. An' ole ma^^sa he lub ter ride in de cyara berry freciuentious. An' Pompey he run de injine— sure 'nouf! An' he show dis chile. 'Mebbe you an' me'll dribe her ober de road ter freedom,' say Pompey. Sure 'nouf, massa! So he tell me how to pull out dis an' shut up dat an' fire up dar, fin' oh,, eberyting! Sure 'nouf! Fur Pompey he less de mos' superest nig dat eber war horned inter dig worl' ob sorrer an' lamentatin. Sure 'nouf, massa ! " "So," said the General, cheerily, "you see that one difficulty has vanished. " "Well, if Jim understands, I am very elad." " Sure 'nouf, massa. 'Taint no grate shucks ob TEUE STORIES OF THE WAR FOR THE UNION. 23 work. Blow her up, easy as wink, ef I don' do jes what Pomp say." It was not an iaepiriting suggestion, and, but lialf relieved of the burden which oopressed me, I said in a low aside : " General, this road may be torn up ahead." "It aiay. It is one of the risks I consilered. War has its perils, I repeat." At 4 o'clock the men were aroused, served with hot coffw and ordered on board tlie abandoned train. By the General's request I took my plao3 In the cab. Jim, complacent, buoyantly hope- ful, stood with one ha.nd upon the lever, the General on the footplate, peering out into the thick, misty darlvness. At 4 :30 Jim annoujjojd that all was in i-eaciiness. "Are all the men on board?" asked the Oen- eral. ' " Every man, " I replied. " Have all had their rations ?" " Every man. " " Start her up, Jim ! " the General commanded. " Pile on the steam 1 " Wit,h a long-drawn, wail- ing shriek, with puffs, with snorts, the engine started. For about ten mitiutes we ran along so smoothly that my misgivings as to Jim's capacity vanished And then! And then the General, wateh in hand, shouted : " More steam, Jim ! Faster, Jim, faster! We must put her through." Jim, gri"nning with satisfaction, pulled out " dis"' and "dat." On we rattted, on we jerked, on we pounded, on we flew! Over that abandoned, desolate road at frightful speed! On, on, on, through the gray, enwrapping mist! On with a bumping of buffers, a rattling and a clanging of coupling-chains, that, in the weird silence, echoed and re-echoed 1 " Faster, faster yet, my lad !" roared the General through and above the dih. " Faster, faster !" Oi)ening, shutting, geisticulating, chattering, Jim obeyed, and at a still gieater speed we dashed on. On, on, on ! Swaying from side to side, thundering through the black night! On, over narrow, sloping embankments, on over rotten, tottering bridges, on over deep, rock-lined ravines —on, on, as every man on board tliat leaping, fly- ing train believed, on to certain death ! Thunder- ing, plunging, bounding, s\vaying, on we flew ; And still the General shouted : •' Faster ! faster ! Crowd on the steam! Put her througli, my lad!" Helpless, hopeless and terrilied were the mem- bers of that valiant brigade. In their hearts they believed the General suddenly to have be- come a madman. Yet with grim, unflinching courage they bore the terrible strain on nerves and body. Well, my boys, at last it ended, that wild, that terrible ride. Strange, improbable, impossible as it may seem, we entered the outr skirts of P. as tht rising sun threw long, oblique lines of golden lightj into the slowly lifting mist. Daybreak: At P.! And— alive! Hooked at Jim, as he sliut off the steam and sprang to the brakes, and then at the General. "Well, Jim," he said, " jou deserve promotion. Had you burst a hundi-ed boilers, you'd have brought us through ! " "Sure 'nouf, massa!" said Jim, doubling him- self up with sudden, complacent, chuckling laughter. " Sure Inouf I Specs I should, massa ! " Uncle Ralph leaned back in his roughly con- structed log-chair with a sigh, and awaited the questions he had learned to expect. They were not long in coming. " Was there a battle ?'' asked George, with an interest as vivid as if he had never before heard any incident of the war. "Was it a victory for our side?" " There was a hard-fought battle, a hard-won victory for our boys in blue." " Was General Y. court-martialled ? Was he dismissed the service?" questioned Frederic. " He was not dismissed," said Uncle Ralph. sadly. "Yet that clay he left the service. That day, dear boys, he gave up his life for his. country." A moment's pause, and then: "What became of Jim?" asked George. " Oh," cried Jack, " I was just goinsr to ask Uncle that very same question!" '• Jim ?" said Mr. Ralph Buttress. " You see: Jim every day.'' There was a second's silence. Then: " What I Big Jim, who has the fruit-store^ under your office?" "The same. Though," with an almost in- voluntary smile, "his ideas of rapid locomotion are somewhat changed now. But Jim the fruiterer is Jim the engineer, though now a snail's pace suits better his weight of flesh." " He's made lots of money," said Frederic, reflectively. " He said so himself 1 He says^ you gave him the monej' to begin." "WeU, he's free!" exclaimed George. "The- Geueral made him free. Didn't he, now. Uncle Ralph ?'' "The General, and hundreds and thousands of our country's brave sons," said Uncle Ralph, tenderly and reverently. "They died to set him free!''— iMary A. Sawyer. HE GOT THE IMULE. When Richmond surrendered it was found that many of the citizens were without food, and others were in a positively starvuig condition. All the agencies at hand were set to work at once to furnish food to people in need of it. The Government issued rations as soon as possible, and in the mean time the Sanitary and Christian com- missions( furnished what they could. Among tliose who assisted in issuing the supplies of the Christian Commission was the Rev. John O. Fos- ter, of Chicago. Each day supplies would be issued according to the amount on liand and the number who crowded into line to receive the rations. Blaclc and wliite, rich and poor, old and young, msrched slowly up to the table wliere the generous Foster listened to their wants and directed iiis assistants in fur- nishing the necessary supplies. All shared alike the bounty of the Christian Commission. One evening after the last basket had been filled and the last applicant had left the room- a colored man wlio had been sitting back in a corner LIBSAEY OF llJLBUyE EXTKAS. ea a box came forward with Ms old torn hat in kis hand, bowing in a most obsequious way. ~ Why did you not come when the others did ? " questioned Foster. " Eaze I didn t want no rashuns. Ben. he done got 'em and gone long ago. I cams on business." "Well, what can I do for you?" ** Tze "moi' "shamed ter tell you, Capt'm.'' and he put Im old hat up to his face and chuckled for a moment. Then he went on ; Tou see, Capfin, dey is sellin' lots of Gov"- ment mules. De wah is ovaa an' dey got no usd for gov'ment mules no mo". An' dey er gwyne ehea'T— 'mos' cheap as dirt. I can buy a b'utiful GoT'ment mule fur twenty dollars." Tlieu there was an awkward silence. "WeU?" " I tho't maybe you'd len' me t\venty dollars to buy one." Foster laughed and the colored man shudied his feet and looked at the floor. " How could you ever pay the money back ?" "Easy 'nuf, massa— by hauling at de w'a'f. Sometimes a dollar a load. Big speculation ia it, aure." "But you have no wagon." ~ Oh, I'ze got good 'null wagon— one ole massa throde away. I'ze fixed it up 'mos' good's new, an' I've picked up plenty rope. I'ze got eberyding but de mule.'' "Well, I think you ought to have the mule now," was Foster's generous reply ; " and here ia twenty dollars to buy one, but you must pay it back,'' and he handed him a SlO and two §5 bUls. " My Lor, massa I Xeber had so much money fore in all my life. If I don fail to pay it back, de mule's youm, sure." "Now, don't allow yourself to be robbed or cheated out of it." "No. massa, I hain't goin' to let nobody know Pze got nuthin' till I git hole on de mule." Two days pa-ssed and he saw nothing of the colored man. On the evening of the third day the colored man came in late, and took a seat in the correr on a box. But after all had left the room he came close up to Foster \vith his hand on his pocket. "Well, did you get the mule?" "Yes, massa, I got de most beautifullest mule dat you ever seed — de bes' kind uv Government mule.'' Then he took from his pocket two clean, crisp §5 bLQs and handed them to ilr. Foster. " ~ Tor sat'day night I gwine to pay all, I 'spects : I'ze doin' a busten bus'ness." The next Saturday evening the colored man was there, ^id as soon as the room was cleared he came forward, and. making sure that no one else would see, he took out quite a roll of bills and from them selected a clean, crisp $10 biU and handed it to Mr. Foster. " How in the world did you make so much money ?'' " I tole you, massa, der war a speculashun in it, an der war. Me and de mule and Ben amed evry doUah. He's the beautifullest mule you ever seed. Beu brung him round so as you could see Mr. Foster went to the door ; there, sure enough, srtood a good, strong mui?, as docile, as quiet and sedate as though he had not hauled the artillery into the fight and stood near the big guns amid the thunders of battle; for Ben said, with great pride : " Dis mule is one uv dem best mulers that pulled de big guns ober de hills. Oh, he's an awful strong hos."' Little Ben sat on a board placed as a seat at the front of the wagon, his white, even teetjh show- ing from ear to ear, and his eyes sparkling with gladness. Ben managed to buy a lot on a back aUey and build himself a shanty and a iittle stable for the Government mule. Judging from his thrift, he is, no doubt, if ahve, one of the wealthy colored men of Richmond now. ^em." NTOT TlilE TO SEND FOE THE COLOXEIx Clinton B. Fisk was chocsen Colonel of a regiment made up largely of ministers and re- ligious men. The morality of the regiment was a matter of favorable comment, not only in the camp where they were drilled before leaving the State, but also as they advanced down the ilis- sissippi Eiver. Some one suggested that Colonel FLsk should do the swearing of the regiment, as he was " as religious as a preacher. " The Colonel, who was not to be nonplusjsed by such a proposition, readilj- accepted the duty, the men all assenting. " Soldiers," he said, with great gravity, " if there is any necessary swearing to be done in this regiment, call on your Colonel." Weeks passed, during which not an oath was heard in camp. The first hird camping place was at Helena, Aik. The regiment pitchetl their tents on the bluff tack of the town, on yellow clay, wldch after a rain wcame like putty. It was more than a mile to the steamboat landing, and all the supplies had to be hauled through the miry streets of tlie town and over the cordu- roy road, a road made of logs firmly fastened to- gether, and then up a long, steep hill, where the mud-like yellow putty gathered upon the wheels and upon the feet of men and beasts. Colonel Fisk sat in his tent one day attending to official business, when he heard one of hia men, a teamster, swearing like a Hessian. He recognized his voice, and determined to reprove the man at the first opportunity. lie had not long to wait. ■" John, " lie eilled, " come here. " John responded with a military salute and stood '.before his Colonel unflinchingly. " John, did I not hear some one swearing dread- fully down the hill a little while ago ? " "Yes. Colonel, that was me."' "You, John? I am surprised. Don't you re- member that I was to do the swearing for this regiment ?~ " Yes, Colonel, I know, but, you see, I was corn- ins up the hill with a big load and the breeching broke. The swearing had to be done right away, and you weren't there to do it."' And the team- ster made the military salute and retir*^. Many of the other privates were -k) full of %vit that it was almost impos. Xew ULm : my father, mother and youngest brother live twenty miles west of New TTlm on the banks of the Little Cottonwood Biver; and I am going to know tliis night whether they hve or have been chopped up by the red imps." "Well, if you go," said the captain, -you must look out ; it will be running the gantlet." But Jim had lived on the frontier and was not easily scared. "VMien darlxuess had once more cast her pro- tecting mantle over motlier earth, he mounted a powerful black horse, sallied forth from our camp, and w^ided his way toward New Ulm. The Big Cottonwood Biver was crossed, and there was a lonely ride of five miles through a dense forest. Nothing of note occurred until Jim came within two miles of town. The Indians liad a fire by the roaaside, and wore evidently guarding the m-iin road. Jim said to himself: '^ WeL, now, this is a pretty go. What is to be done now? I guess I will have to tiank you fellows, for I reckon there are too many of you for me to tackle single handed." So, leaving the main road, and making a de- tour to the south for a mile, he came upon a liill, whence he could plainly see the smould^ing Tiuns of the outside portion of the town. He now advanced in a bee line for the fire, lying close to his horse, peering in every direction for red skins. He moved cautiously along, and seeing nothing, s raightened up, feeling that he had llankeil the Indiaiis completely. But to hb disappointment, ho waa awakened from his security by the whizzing of an arrow close to his head. "Well, old Tom, we will have to run for it,"" .«aid Jim. Putting spurs to his horse he made a dash for town. The outer buUdings were all burned and smould^^g. They were reached and passed, when came the challenge of " Halt : or I will shoit :"' -Dont shoot: I am a white man and have run the Indians' guard. -What's your name, stranger?" said the sentineL - Jim Hoosier '. ~ -Oh, yes; I know old man Hoosier: they all came into t^jwn yesterday before the fight. The old man and the boy did some tail fightang." The boy had had a double-barreUed shotgun and was on the outside breastworks, at a point where the Indians had then determined to come in ; and the little feUow had caused many a red de^-il to leap into the air and come down in his d^ath agony. , , x- -Wheie is vour next guard?"' asked Jim. -We will have to double the guard, for they fired at me with their bows and arrows, and may attack us before mornirg. Where will I find my father?' ° He is on the next post north on the main road. Wait here until the relief comes around. Then you can fall in with them, and they will take vou to him."' Throwing himself irom his horse, he cast his eye back "along his trail. He dropped down on his knees and could see above the rise of the CTOuTid a dark object crawling toward them. '•Whist, come here:'' he whispered to the guard. Kneeling beside young Ho.:^ier. the guard said : -That looks like a dog or a wolf." - Hold my horse," said Jim, " and I wiU show vou what kind of a dog it is." Crawling off to one side, so as to come broad- side to the moving object, he brought his old musket to his shoulder. A flash belched forth and a leaden minie sped on its errand of death. The terrible whoop of a brawny savage broke the stillness of the breaking dawn. "There, you red cuss, take that for sneaking around after me," said -Jim. The yell, however, was soon answered from different points, r-eemingly from a thousand throats. '•Well, pard," said the guani. -that was like tipping over a beehiAre: they wUl be down on us like a swarm of 'skeeters, and we had bet- ter fall back to the rifle pits and prepare for a battle." Jim wanted to get his fat- r first: and they had to be quick, for it wa. • last coming day. The next i>ost was soon reached, and father and son were in fond embrace. -Well, Jim," said the father, *•! knew that wasn't any popgun which sent that redskin to the happy hunting grounds. We wiH soon have fun. Fall back to the ritle pits." Jim wanted his father to take the horse and ride into town and give tbe alarm, he 'and the 2uard holding the rifle pits. But there was no use in th.-xr, for the yeUs would have raised the dead, and by the rime they reached the rifle pits there were a hundred men there. Every- body was clamoring, "Whose gun was it that LIBEAEY OF TEIBUNE EXTEAS. bursted f" Nobody's gun had bursted. The guard explained : " Jim Hoosier came up with an army gun, a regular cannon, and a redskin came sneaking along after him; and Jim says, 'Hold my hoss, pard,' and he crawled oft' to one side, and the next I saw was a flash ; and that Indiain went up higher than my head, and came down ker- whallop. HarJv I they are coming ! Get into the pits I" Like so manj' demons they came thundering on. They were on their ponies. Owing to the darkness and their mad hurry, they came rush- ing on, not clinging close, as is their custom, but sitting upright in their saddles. "Eeadyl aim! fire!" ran along the line. An awful, trembling, roaring sound bellowed like an earthquai^e. TTie volley was sudden and unexpected, and the aim Avas close. Of the howling and screeching and rearing of horses, no pen can ever tell the story. All who were able to wheel and get back to the rear went there. "There,'' said the old man Hoosier, "they got a good send-off that time." The scampering of the ponies soon died away, and aH was quiet at post No. 1. But, hark! An attack was being made on the other side of the town. *" ■* ** "Twenty-five men stay Jiere ; the balance fol- low me!" was the command of the old man Hoosier; wnd the party were soon in the thick- est of the %ht. The Indians had been more cautious on that side of the town. They had crawled up toward the outpost, and were just in the act of knifing the guard when he shot the foremost Indian and gave the alarm; but he had fired liis last shot. He went down un- der the stroke of a tomahawk. The Indians were soon driven back. Several more attacks were made, but with heavy losses to the Indians. T]ie sun rose clear upon a sickening scene. It was the most beautiful valley and town on tJie JVIinnesota Eiver, and the plam Avas strewn with dead and dying human beings, wliile the defenders of the towji were grimy with powder and pale and haggard from long and weary watching and hard fighting. Satisfied that there would be no other attack for a while, Jim Hoosier Aveut to see his mother and Johnnie. The meeting between mother, son and brother was an affectionate one. After breakfast a scouting party was sent out along the timber. Net a trace of an Indian was seen. Cotning to a small bunch of hazel brush, one of the party said: "There was where poor Eeu Foster got his last shot last night. He and Charley Tidling were here, having come home on parole I'rom the 3d Eegiment. They were in the fight of yesterday." After the Indians had fallen back to the woods they had followed them to thh, clump of brush, and secreted them- selves in here, and many a redskin had been made to bite the dust from their long range Spring- field rifles. The Indian? having disappeared altogether, Ben had grown restless, and lold Char- ley he was going to stir them up. So he had started for the woods, but had njt gone five rods l)ei"ore he Avas shot. Then a brawny savage had sallied forth to scalp him, but an unerring shot from Charley's rifle sent him to his happy hunting-ground. Charley was determined to save his comrade's scalp or die in the attempt. When darkness once mere mantled the earth, he had come back to town, gut help, and brought back his dead comrade. Thus ended the first day's fight. Seeing no more signs of Indians, Jim Hoosier set out for camp. On reaching the river, he saw a red blanket on a l)ush below the ford. " Well, let's see what this means," he said. Tying his horse to a tree, he cruwled through the brush as near as practicable, and saw two Indians in swimming. Drawing a bead on the largest one, he sent liim beneath the water. Hastening back to his horse, he crossed the river, and lost no time in getting back to camp, and reported that New Ulm would be evacuated the next day. When the 27th Wisconsin Infantry relieved us from New *Ulm we were sent back to Camp Criss, twenty miles wept of Mankafco. Shortly after we camped there two half-breed Indians came to our camp with orders for twenty-five of our company to act as escort for tlio 2Ttli Wis- consin. They were ordered to march to Sib- ley's camp for duty. We joined the 27th at New Ulm, and then started for General Sibley's camp, at Mud Lake, forty miles above Fort Eidgley. Wo reached the fort at noon, crossed the river on the ferry, and reported to head- quarters for dinner. The commander of the post said : " There has not been any communica- tion with General 'Sibley since the half-breeds went down to your camp, and I am afraid the Indians liave got between his forces and t)ie fort ; and I will have to hold you here until I can send a courier through aiid see what is the trouble.'' " Well, commander, this is ur.expected. If it had not been for my men and horses I should not have crossed the river to the fort." " It is better as it is, Lieutenant, for it was only day before yesterday that Captain Marsh was sliot by tlie Indians. He was talking hi* company across the river, and the Indians drove them back with heavy loss, and Captain Marsh, has not 'jeeii found yet." The men were impatient They .said : '" We are scouts to hunt up the red devils and punish them for their infernal deeds, and now here we are trapped and shut up in this old fort. This is unbearable. Well, bny«, we will have to make the best of it." It was too confining for us rangers, lioA\ever, so, after dinner, we wanted to see how many Indians there were in the woods. We made a break and skirmished for two hours, charged on a plum thicket and carried off about a barrel of plums. We saw the remains of one good Indian during the excursion. On returning to the fort we saw a crowd at headquarters and soon learned) that they had' found the remains of Captain Marwh and were preparing for burial. We fell inio line, marched to the grave and witnessed the solemn, burial of a bravo soldier. Three volleys were- fired over the grave. TEUE STORIES OF THE WAE FOE THE UNION. 37- On returning to the fort several of the wouuded had just arrived. " Halloo, what's up ? Has there been a battle? Well, I should say so" There was one poor fellow all shot to pieces. Why was it that we could not ha^'e a little fight with the Indians? We had been s'^ou'ing every day and j^et the Indians would not give us one squint at their noble form. There were thirty or forty all told of the wounded. " How many did you hurt?" we asked. "That we can't tell," they replied, " but we think the Indians lost double our number." Oh, how we wished— we would have given anything if we could have ridden in on their flank and lifted the topknots off from about a thousand of them. The mule train had been sent out to the In- dians' gardens for forage. Tlie Indians gobbled them all except one man. This man loosened a mule, shot his way through the Indians, reached eamp and gave the alarm. The mule train had been surrounded and captured by the Indians. The 3d Eegiment grabbed their guns and was off on the double-quick to the scene of action. The Indians were on a rolling prauie. The 3d Eegiment took advantage of a ravine, opened fire and slew them right and left. Although the Indians outnumbered our force two to one, they could not stand our long-range riiies, and the 3d EegTToent sent them howling back to their town like a pack of wolves. The wouuded men were taken to the hospital and had their wounds dressed. After our little squad had turned in for the night the Indian problem had to be solved. Lieutenant Eoberts made a little speech : •' Fol- low comrades! We have been called upon to witness anotlier sad burial of a dear comrade, cut down in full health and vigor by the red devils of the forest ; and again we are called upon to behold the mangled and bleeding forms of more of our comrades. We cannot help it, b.oj'S. You know it isn't my fault, and it is none of yours, for we have ridden night and day, rain and shine, and worked liard to get tboin to attack us. But they won't. Tiicy dodge us on every hand. But I will make them one promise. If we ever get them out of the woods we never will leave one to get back to tell what became of the rest. " " Three cheers for Lieutenant Eoberts. " They were given with a will, and we went to sleep for the night. But I did not sleep much. ]\Iy head was filled with dreams of wounded men and Indians, and my stomach was too full of wild plums. At 3 o'clock in the morning there came orders for our company and six pieces of artUlery from the fort to move to, General Sibley's headquar- ters at once. By reason of my having had two suppers— one of supper and the other of plums— I had to be left behind. I was left in care of O'Connor, one of our men, who had been detailed in the arsenal at the fort. Our men filed out into the darkness and across the river, and all was quiet once more. There was no sound except the lone sentry's tread. Day dawned at last and found me somewhat worse for duty. O'Connor went over to the Commis- sary's and got some tjea, coffee, beef, cabbage and other provisions. "Now," he said, "stuff yourself. A cup of that tea just as strong as you can drink it will fetch you out all right." "Can you cook cabbage and beef," I asked; " I wanti an old-fashioned boiled dinner just lilte what my mother used to cook"" "'I don't know how your mother used to cook," he said, "but I can cook the way my mother used to very well." "Cook, then, j'our way, and I will be the judge." I tested the virtue of the tea, and ifc worke* lilte magic. I had the boiled dinner so nearly perfect that O'Connor almost went into hysterics. He said it took him back to when he was a Mttje boy and eating his mother's cooking; it made him think of his grandmother and Ike and all of her relations. "Well," I said, "I think to-morrow I will be able to go to Sibley's camp.'» "What I" said O'Connor, "you don't think of starting out from, this fort alone?" "Yes, why not?" " Because you would be charged with desertiony arrested and brought back." "I would not be deserting," I said. "I would be going to my own company." "It makes n» difference," said he, "that is military orclers. No. enhsted man can leave any post or garrisoui alone." " That is tough," I said. " I have got to stay- cooped up here like a rat in a trap." "I expect yoiu will have to stay right her© until your company comes back." V/ell, I always was unlucky anyway, but it is- a very foul wind that blows nobody any good. The sun was just sinking behind the western hills, and it/s golden rays were playing around the topmost corners of the battered old fort when I went to the back yard to draw a pail of water. To my surprise I found two pretty girl* there drawing water. They had not noticed me. I stepped to the side of the largest one, seized the well rope and said : " Please let me as- sist you, fair lady!" They both fell back startled. I said, "Don't be afraid, ladies; I am not a crow, nor a Comanclie Indian en the war- path." "Oh, you are not to blame," one replied; "we were just talkin^j about how long it had beea since oiur father and mother had been killed by the Indians." "Were your folks killed by the Indians?" "Yes," he said, "and we barely escaped with our lives." "I am a soldier," said I, "and I would be pleased to have you stay, for I have been a-scout- ing for six weeks, and have seen so much of their hellish works, it moves me with the deepest of sjTnpathy for the survivors." She then told this story : "My father moved to the Yellow Medicine- last spring, near the Indian village. All waa- peace and quiet until the morning of the out- break. My mother sent us to our neighbors on. 28 LIBRAEY OF TEIBUNE EXTRAS. an errand. We were returning home (when we met another neighbor who lived nearer to the Indian village. He was running and hallooing at the top of his voice: 'Run for your hves; the Indians have broken out and are killing everybody; don't go home, for your father and mother are both killed.; now, run for your lives.' We turned and ran to the woods, and followed the timber and windings of the river until we reached the fort. We arrived here only the night before they attacked the fort. That was a hard battle. We thought surely the fort would be burned. You see the top of that frame building?" pointing to the only wooden building in the fort. " Yes, " I said, " I was looking that over yesterday. I see the upper story is all riddled with bullets." "The Indians would run up to the walls of the fort and shoot arrows with burning rag? tied to them to set the buildings on Sre, and they nearly accomplished it. The soldiers cut holes through the roof to throw water on the fire. The Indians besieged the fort for tiree days, but were finally driven ofl." "Well," I said, "it is dark, and I am keeping you out here in the night Can I see you here to-morrow ? " 'Ihey replied : " We shall go to St. Peter as soon as we can get there. We have two uncles living at Forest City, and intend going to live with them." I then went to my quarters for the. night. ]My dreams were troubled. I could' see burning build- ings, flaming arrows, and the form of a brawny savage with a long knife pursuing a frightened Tvoman, or about to lift the scalp lock of a ehrinking, fallen victim, and I seemed to be chained, unable to help them. L'ut at last day broke and I rushed out to get breakfast. O'Con- nor was already out, and before I had breakfast half ready, he came rushing in to say : " If you want to go te Sibley's camp, now is your time, for Major Skelly has come with a dispatch for ^Sibley, and if you insist on going, I will get him to take you in his company." " All right, " said I, " many thanks. Just throw my horse a handful or two of oats, while you are hands^ by. Thank God, I will get out of this old dismal fort for a whale. Now, then, you take my canteen, fill it with water, take my haversack and fill it. with bread and meat. " O'Connor gave me sixty more cartridges, flaying : " You are going with strange men, and you want to be prepared for the worst. You don't know as you will ever get to Sible.y's camp. Take enough provisions to last you a week. " " We have always found plenty to eat without carrying it with us," I said. "You may not find anything where you are going," said O'Counor. But 1 beihg young and thoughtless t.oiok bread and meat enough for one meal. The rest of the men did not take a bite of anything to eat -with them. We crossed the ^iver and took the trail. All went well until noon. Then the men were hungry, but had nothing to eat. I gave my piece of bread and meat to a boy about my own age and told him I would divide with him. He took it, broke it in two, kept a generous half himself and passed the rest on to his chum. I made up my mind that my generosity would eventually bring me to hun- ger. About 2 o'clock the sergeant of the squad fainted and fell from his horse. The doctor gave him some restoratives and got him up again, and we went on. About 4 o'clock he fainted again. The doctor applied his restora- tives, but the sergeant was so overcome with fatigue and hunger that he could not rally. So the Major said : " Two of you stay with him and when we get to camp we will send a wagon after him." Then on we rushed. To our disappointment, the sun had set when we reached the old campground at Mud Lake. A few empty barrels and the ritle pits were aU that was left to testify to that having been Sibley's camp. "We'll aU be kilted," says Pat. Dorgan ; " three of our men left behind, Sibley gone to the d , amd Ingens all around us. Bad luck to the day I iver jined to foight Ingens." . Somebody suggested that he had moved to the Yellow Medicine, about four miles ; we could easily follow his trail and reach there before dark. On we rushed, but only to another dis- appointment. Darkness had cast a gloom over mother earth long before we reaiched the river. The Indian village, situated on the north side of the river, lay in smouldering ruins. The gen- tle night breeze fanned the embers into a blaze and sent up a sickening glare, and made the timid think that every spark was an Indian. "Oh!" said Pat, "we will all be kUted : I seed an Ingen lape rite out of the fire." We crossed the river, wound around a small thicket of brush, climbed a hill on the north and hallooed long and loud. But all was still as the grave. We then filed to the left and followed the main' road for a mile, but all was blank. Then said the Major : " We will return to the rifle pits, and encamp for the night. About face, march!" As I had been near the rear, the order brought me in front. My horse was nearly exhausted, but the doctor's was more so ; and when I was about half-way down the hill, "Halt!" came the order. Tlie doctor's horse had fallen down ; but the man ahead of me moved on, and two more passed by. Then I turned my horse across the road, and said : "Don't desert j-our commander:" Then the man in front cried out : "Boys, do you see that?" A gust of wind had taken the .sparks heavenward. It made my hair stand on end. "For God's sake follow me!" he yelled, and away they went. Another man passed me. Then I shouted : " Don't arother man pass me, or I will drop you right here." Tlien came the order, "All right, forward!" We rushed on to the riSe pits. No deserters TEUE STOEIES OF THE WAR FOR THE UNION. 2 0- were there. The order was then to go out to good feed, and then CJimp. Two miles took us out to good feed. Tlien we let out our bridle reins, held one end, rolled ourselves in our overcoats, and soon forgot the troubles of this world. Just as the gray streak of dawn was creeping into the eastern sky I awoke, sprang to my feet and gazed over a group of tired men and horsi>s, wrapped in silent slum- ber. I aroused my poor, tired horse, crossed to where the major and doctor lay and awoke them. "Come: it is time Ave were on the move." We soor had the men all awake, but the doctor's horse was di)ne for The men lifted him to his feet, but he couhl not stand. "Well,"' the doctor said, "it is very plain I am out a horse. Now, boys, I have a dispatch that must go to General Sililey. Will you so with me to take it ?" "Bedad," said Pat Dorgan, "it's not the loiks of me that wants to run the risk of me loife going through that burnin' valley agin. We'll all be kilted." Another man said : " If you will go back and get the sergeant and the rest of our men, we will all go willingly." So back we went to where we left the sergeant, but all were gone. Then came another parley. Not a man wanted to go with the Major, but the doctor said : " Major, if you will let me ride your horse part of the time, I will stick to you. '' Said I : " Major, are you in command of this company ? " " I am," he replied. He straightened himself in his saddle and said : " Men, follow me," and once more headed his horse toward the burning valley. I fell in behind him, and said : " Come, boys, if you go to the fort the Indians will scalp every last one of you." We followed the Major. When we reached the Indian village, the sun was high up and everything looked differently from what it did in the dark. We followed the trail until afternoon. Our horses were badly jaded and the men were tired and hungry. I got off, left my gun hanging on the saddle, and let the doctor ride my horse. The party moved ahead, then stopped. When I came up to them the Major and doctor were forty rods in advance of the others. I said : "Wlaat's up now?" "Bedad," says Pat, "we're all scalped ; them Ingens have surrounded us ; the Major is out on the hill spying them. " I went up to where they were sitting on the horses. " Well, what are you waiting for ?" said I. The Major replied : " We have got to go back to the fort to get reinforcements. I am afraid that the Indians have captured Sibley and his whole command. " " Tliat cannot be possible, " said I ; " and if they had, there are not men enough in the fort to help him any. I think those new tents to the right are Sibley's, and those othex's are the Indians' . and that white flag in the centre is a flag of truce. If we follow this road it will take us right into camp." "No," said he, "it would be foolhardy to run into danger, so Ave will return to the fort." Said I : " We never can stand the jaunt. Our horses are all tired out and the men haven't tasted food, since yesterday mornin?. It will take us two days more to reach the fort Doctor, if you will gi\'e me my horse I will go to canip> alone." " No, " said the ^Major, " you will have to go to the fort Avith us. You Avould bring the Indians all down on us." "Well, give me my gun and I will go afoot." " No, Ave Avon't do that, either. You are sub- ject to my orders and if you desert us noAv I will report you as a deserter." "You are a set of d cowards," I answered. "Young man, do you knoAv you are talking to a commissioned oflicer, and I could have you court- martialled for insult to your superior?" "WeU," I said, "I think if I were a commis- sioned officer I woudn't disgrace those brass but- tons with such cowardice." Faiiing his horse %o the rear, the ilajor said : "Young man, follow me." I aroise, but they moA'ed off and left me standing and unarmed. So much for getting into bad company. I turned and trudged after them about five miles. The doctor then gaA^e me my horse. Near tjie YelloAW Medicine we found an Indian garden and dug up some Irish potatoes, and we made a fije at the rifle pits and roasted them. We traA-elled all night and the next day, and just as the sun was sinking behind the tree tops we pulled into Fort Eidgely tired, sleepy and hungry, as we had been three days and two nights Avith nothing ex- cept a few half-cooked potatioes to eat. The next day my company came down ; and Major Skelly found I was right about the tents and the flag oif truce. The next day we bade farewell to Fort Ridgely and returned to Camp Criss F. E. MIIJLER. Co. E, 9th Minn. Infantry. A FRIENDSHIP MADE ON THE FIELD. Monticello, 111., Jan. 28.— It was after the terrible charge at Jackson, Mississippi, in July, 1863, that our old colonel, Isaac C. Fugh, called on us to go oA^er to the battlefield the next day after the charge with a flag of truce, and see if we could not get permission from the Confederates to remove our wounded and bury the dead. We were only too glad to do this. In company with Uncle John Fletcher, our old mail-carrier ; Robert W. Eickard and James D. English, field-bearers, we started on our mission. We liad always thought that it was against the laws of ciAilized warfare to fire on a flag of truce and felt no alarm while carry- ing this emblem of peace. We went down to the Avoods where we had been when the charge was made, and instructed the field-bearers to stop in the timber until Ave went forward and secured the consent of the Confederates to re- move the wounded. Just as we stepped out in the open field we saw three Confederates on their post. They jumped up and grabbed their guns. We waved the Avhite flag and mounted a stump about a foot high, so that wc would be in full view of the enemy. We were just on the eve of caUIrg to them and explaining our mis- sion when one of them raised Ms gun and fired, the ball passing? just to our left. We made 30 LIBRAEY OF TRIBUNE EXTRAS. » leap and fell on the ground. That Johnnie may have thought he had silenced one Yankee, but he was badly mistaken, for we still live, although it was a very close call. Old Uncle John Fletcher called to us to " come on and get out of there" ; and they sent a baU after him, but it did not hit him. We were boya then, and this was our first experience in the flasr of truce business. Tl e next day General W. T. Sherman sent in a flag of truce to General Joseph E. Johnston, and there was a cessation of hostilities all along the lines untU tlie dead who fell in that terrible ■charge were buried. They had lain there for three days and were changed almost be5'ond recog- nition. I had been wounded in the right hand and shoulder, but made my way over on the bat- tlefield to where the Confederates were burying the dead. They received me kindly and gave me all the information they could about the killed and wounded. Our loss had been fearful. Of the remnants of four old regiments, the ^8th, 41st and 53d Illinois and the 3d Iowa and one sec- tion of the 15th Ohio Battery, over two thirds of the number who went into the charge had been killed or wounded. While on that field I met the men who did the burying of the dead. They were of the 2d and and 3d Florida Confederate Regiments. Among them was a Mr. Samuel Pasco, who was a member ■of the 3d Florida and liVed at Monticello, Fla. He had ,formerlj'' lived at Cambridgeport, Mass., and all his relations were living there. He asked tne to do him the favor to write to his parents and family at Cambridgeport and let them know that he was alive and in the army. I told him that I would, and requested that he write a few lines on a leaf of his day-book and sign his name. This he did. I enclosed the leaf with my letter. When the bugle sounded, and the signal-gun was fired we had to separate and each one go to his own side. I bade him farewell; and when I ar- rived at camp I sat down and with my left hand wrote a letter to his family, I could not use my right hand, because it had been torn by a minie ball. The two armies separated and liis went off into Tennessee, wliile ours went back to Vicksburg, Miss. In a reasonable thne I received a letter from his sisters, who were glad to hear from their brother. They sent a letter for him, but I car- ried that letter until almost the close of the war without having had an opportunity to deliver it. Time rolled on and the war ended. We returned home, forgetting our old friend Pasco, never ex- pecting to meet him again on this earth ; but when the National Democratic Convention met in Chi- cago in 18S4 and the National Committee was made up, I saw among the names that of Samuel Pasco, of Florida. I wrote him to know if he was the same man I had met on that battlefield at Jackson, Miss., twenty-one years ago. He replied that he was the same man, and gave me a brief history of his army life. After meeting me there his command had been sent to Tennessee, and he had taken part In the battle of Missionary Ridge. He was wounded there and was left on the field, and was captured »nd taken North, where he remained until the close of the war, when he was exchanged. At the close of the war he went back to Florida, married and raised a family. We kept up our corropondence, and met for the first time at the Southern Hotel at St. Louis, ]\Io., in 1888. [Mr. Pasco was elected presi- dent of the Constitutional Convention of Florida, and was elected to the United States Senate ia IS 77, and he is there now serving Ms State. He is a gentleman who is well liked by all who know him. E. T. LEE, 41st Illinois Infantry. :E^T AHEAD OF THE COLL'MN. TORPEDOES IX THE nOAD AXD A SQUAD DE- TAILED TO FIND THEM— GENERAL SHER- MAX UXDER A HOT EIRE OF CAXISTER AXD SHELL. Emery, 111., Jan. 23.-On December 10, 18G4, at the termination of that ever memorable " March to the Sea," a detachment of cavalry at the head of the column under command of a handsome and soldierly looking lieutenant was making its way along the sandj^ causeway which at that place ran some thirty yards to the right of the Georgia Central Railroad as it entered the city. The horse of the heutenant suddenly trod on a buried torpedo, exploding it. The horse was killed and one of the ofiicer's feet was torn off at the ankle. The head of the infantry column (the 1 7th A. C), wlilch was a short distance in the rear, was instantly halted. General Sherman was on foot at the head of the corps, and was very angry over such modes of warfare. He imme- diately ordered a detail of six rebels from among the prisoners, saying in his impulsive way " he would be d d ; if they wanted to blow men up by such means they could try it on some of their own." Sergeant Cole, of my company, had charge of the detach- ment, wliich consisted of six rebels and sii blue- coats. Sergeant Cole being my bunkmate, I volunteered and went with him, which made thirteen of us. The rebel detail was quickly and quietly made. I suppose none of us were free from a feeling of dread while we were getting ready and watching the surgeons dress the wounded lieutenant. We moved forward in sections of four, close ranks, and covered thirty or forty pac^ to the front before the troops were put in motion. We had orders from General Sherman that if we saw any signs of torpedoes, the Johnnies should dig them up or tramp on and explode them. After we had marched some distance the feeling of dread gradually wore away. My gallant old com- rade Cole and I talked of the campaign just ended, while the rest of the guards, as dashing a lot of fellows as there were in the Army of the Ten- nessee, guyed the Johnnies in an unmerciful man- ner. All of the latter, witli one exception, were scared half out of their wits. The exception was a little captain, a regular gamecock. The boys would say: "Now, walk right up, Johnny! If you get blowed up you are certain of good company, for we will all go together. " We TEUE STOEIES OF THE WAR FOR THE UNION. 31 tramped along the causeway in the j-ieldiag sand until we cume to a place which was clear of trees lying between the road and railroad, the latter being some thirty or fortj^ j'ards to our left as we went toward the city. Just as wo entered the woods beyond, which fringed the borders . of a narrow swamp, some rebel batteries, the proximity of which wo were entirely ignorant of, opened on us with a hot tire of shell and canister. We immediately halted, and the compact blue column closed sullenly upon us, with General Sherman at ito head, on foot. By this time a perfect hurricane of shell and canister was coming down the road through the strip of wooda between the road .and railroad. Durin;^ this fusillade "Uncle BUly" stood within thrive feet of me. He wore no sidearms ; none of his staff were Avith him ; iiis coat was unbuttoned and flared open ; he had the stub of a dead cigar, wliich lie placed and replaced in his mouth, and tapped in his quick, nervous way with his fingers. As I watched his eyes, which fairly glittered, I said to myself, "Well, Uncle JBilly, if one of those canister hits you in the ribs the head of tl)e niess will be gone, sure." The troops had sprc-nd out the full width of the road wlien a murderous shell exploded in Company i, 53d Illinois, killing five and. wounding other men. One of the poor fellows, apparently a boy of ■eighteen or nineteen, lay at my feet completely ■eviscerated by the cruel shell, and with his left arm torn off near the Fhoulder Tlie little strips of red flesh were hangi'ig down and the red blood was dripping from them like water from melting icicles. He talked as coollj^ as if ho were sitting quietly by liis campfire with no danger near, and he died, lilie tlie glorious liero that he was. A colored "man and brother" was trudging along on the railroad in conscious pride of his new-found freedom, on the way to Savannah, fresh oysters and perliaps some dusky maiden, when a shell strucl: the roadbed in his front and, glancing up, took his head off. The troops began to file to the right and take position. The rebels ceased their fire, except that they sent an occasional shell which went far above our heads. They doubtless concluded that the advance was only a skirmish line and that they could do more damage by sending their shells farther back. But the fact was that tbey had been firing squarely into the head of the column, the road being filled with a solid mass of troops. I took notice that the Johnnies we had did not stand fire nearly as well as our own boys. The most of them started to run, and Amos Salmon came near to shooting one of them down before he would halt. After the firing had ceased, and while I was chatting with two comrades. General Sherman came along and chatted a moment with us. One of the boys had a shovel with which he was scooping up, and looking at the sand, said : " Well, General, I reckon we will have to dig some rifle- pits over there," pointing toward the rebel bat- teries, "if those fellows will let us." The General goqd-naturedly answered him : " Well, we will not ask those fellows where we will dig rifle-pits We shall dig them where we please." This was tlie only instance in which I saw Sherman under fire during the war, and I venture to say he was never in a warmer place for a lew moments at any time during the entire war. It is hardly necessary to add that " Uncle Billy" " didn't scare worth a cent." The next day we took the road for Kings Bridge on the Ogeechee River above Fort ^McAllister. We were exceedingly hungry It seemed to me that I walked like a drunken man, I was so hungry. When night came on John King and I managed ' to secure a piece of beef liver, which we divided and grilled before the camplire, dipping it into the ashes to give it a salty taste. I told John that " to have anything to eat at all was some- thing, and while this was about the hardest meal I ever had in nearly four years' service, yet it was a great sight harder on the steer which furnislied the liver." The next day we arrived at our destination, not having had breakfast or dinner. On the way Joe Ware and myself found a cavalryman on guard by the roadside over three or four bushels of shelled corn. We tried to beg or buy a little but could do neither. The guard said that if the corn were his own to dispose of he would have given 'us some. Farther along we ran against a potato specu- lator. Joe was the banker of our party, he having one dollar, and he bought four little potatoes with it, each one about six inches long and as big round as an ordinary man's thumb. These we ate, peelings, dirt and all as we tramped along. I hope that speculator will he allowed to go to heaven for a little whUe, lor Joe and I want to point him out to the boys as the man who charged two hungry comrades a dollar for four little Confederate sweet potatoes. Joe and I liope that old Saint Peter will let us two slip in anyhow for what we did for the old flag. So far as I know, the principal incident referred to above is the only one of the kind during the war. Generals Grant and Sherman both speak of it in their memoirs. General Grant seems to have fallen into error in believing that Sherman sent the whole body of rebel prisoners ahead of the column by theniselvee; and General Sherman has been severely criticised on that supposition. But we had only about 100 prisoners with tlie 17th Corpsj and of this number only six: were made to take this disagreeable* tramp at the head of the column. Tliey were accompanied by seven l-luecoats, making thirteen in all in the stiuad. These are the plain facts in the case. While we did not discover any more torpedoes, we took our chances of that, without tlie faintest hope of being able to defend ourselves in any manner against harm should we explode one. It was as cold- blooded an expedition as any one was ever called upon to take part in durmg thf^ entire war, great as it was. My gallant old comrad'* Sergeant Cole and I always have a chat about this incident when we meet. The beven bluecoats in tlie squad were aU members of Companies A and B, 41st Illinois Vet- eran Battalion, there being at that time only enough of flie regiment left to make two companies. We were all farmer boys, just creeping out of our 32 LIBEAEY OF lEIBUNE EXTEAS. 'teens, although ^re were "veterans" of nearly four years' service at the from, with that, to me, incomparable body of troops, the Army of the lenuessee. It is stating the ca&e mildly when I Bay I greatlj- pj-efer to sit here in my bachelor quarters and v.-nte about it rather than to take Buch another Irannj. It is seldom even in sucli a long war, with constant f.ghting, that one lias the opportunity to volunteer under the eye and personal su^-ervision of such a leader as General Sherman, and perform such a service. Sometimes when I read about the tellows who were awarded medals for meritorious acts I think that some of them would be without the medals to-day if they had been called upon to go ahead of tlie column to hnd, tramp on and explode torpedoes in order to save the troops. At tliis date, in my more mature jears, it seems to me that I would shrink from tlie porformance ol such a duty again. At times, even whr-n 1 iim v(>ry busy at work, the risk we ran iiusties fjirough my mind, and I stop my work instantly and look around befoi'e I can remember where I am. Well, I have been aeked what I would take as an inducement to make such another tramp. A deed of my native State, the Avhole State, the grand old State of Illinois, would not be the slifrhtest temptation.— Joseph Eay, late Co. A, 4l9t 111. Vols., First Brigade, Fourth Division, 17th A. C. FOUR DOLLARS A llOSTH, NOW, ONE IVIAX'S WAR HISTOEY. TOWN CLOCK OF VICKSBILRG. Tlie Court House of Vicksburg stood on nigh ground in the centre of the citg-. It was sur- mounted by a tall tower, and near the top of the toAver was placed a large white faced clock, the four white faces looking toward the four points of the compass. Ihe black figures indicating the hour of the day and the hands could be ."^een miles away with the. aid of field glasses. During the long weary months of the siege of Vicksburg when the heavy guns of the Union Army poured in hot shot and shell night and day, many a skilled gunner trained his gun at one of the whitie faces of that clock. Shot and shell came from every quarter, but the clock kept time for both armies unscathed. The Confederate flag staflt' was cut tio pieces above it; the tower above and below was riddled with flying missUes, but the clock remained untouched, and ticked off mo- ment by moment, hour by hour the exact time, un- til the last gun was fired, and the last wail of agony was hushed in the soleum ceremonies of the liis- toric surrender. Even lihen the old clock went on unmoved, and told time with resonant tongue as though nothing had happened. It was a matter of surprise to artillery men that they had not been able to send a ball througu one or the other of the four gi-eat white facey of the clock at Vicksburg. After the surrender an old colored ilethodist preacher explained it to the satisfaction of many. He said, speaking of the fall of their great brick church : " You see, we ust to go dar to pray, and we alters prayed tor liberty an dat de Yanks would git de A-ictory, an so to stop de praj-en dey jus tore don de church."' " -And that stopped your praying ?" " Oh, no, missus, dat couldn't stop our prayln*. We just 'greed to pray whenever de clock struck 12, night or day. And ohj missus, how we did pray !•' "The Union men tried very hard to hit that clock, but somehow they didn't happen to strike it." The old man's face was radiant. The joy oB his heart was shining through the black skin, as he swayed and slapped his hands. " Oh, honey, dar's no happen about dat. De good Lor' he jus' put his han' over it, and kep' it goin' an' goin', for us poor color fokes to pray by." What perfect trust 1 It is easier to accept the theory of the old colored preacher than to explain Avhy it was that the army with a cordon of guns pointing toward that clock did not reach the clock or stop the reglilar swing of its pendulum, or the merry chimes of its bell. THE MULES NEARLY ATE UP THE WAGONS- FIGHTING PRICE IN THE SOUTHWEST —A VETERAN'S MODEST QUESTION AS TO PENSIONS. When the first call came for 75,000 men Charles Atkinson proceeded instantly to the work of en- listment. In a few days he had raised a company, with Thomas Harvey as captain, afterward Ueu- tenant-colonel of the 84th Illinois. Tills com- pany was in excess of the quota of Illinois, and could not be mustered. When the call came for 300,000 men, the company was accepted and placed in the 28th Illinois. Atkinson was a Methodist pastor at Vermont, 111. He did not take a military position until the close of his pastoral year, when, having mounted and equipped his only son capable of military duty (who enlisted in Company L, 7th Illinois Cav- alry), in a few days he himself enlisted as a private in the same company, leaving his other son, a cripple, in care of his family. At Bird's Point, Mo., he secured a chest of tools, with which he put the regimental train in efficient state. The mules had in the absence of hay eaten up the wagon bodies. WTien a move was made for New- Madrid the train was in perfect running order. Passing down the Mississippi to Pleasant Point, honored en route with an artillery salute from a rebel battery on the Kentucky side, his next move after the battle of Shiloh was up Tennessee River to Pittsburg I;anding ; thence to camp be- fore Corinth. He hatl divested himself of the distinction of an artisan, but was again detached for the necessary repairs, which corduroj'' roads and the mules made urgent. The next move- ment found camp at Jacinto, Miss., with the heat of a June sun inviting him to the shade ; but the demand of the quartermsister again forced him, as an absolute necessity, to put the wagon train in order for transportation of forage and stores from the Tennessee Elver. Af- ter this came the advance to Alabama. The 7th Illinois cavalry was stationed at Cane Creek, on the MobUe and Ohio Eailroad in the midst of cornfields, which supplied the mules and gave considerable rest to the wagons. The retreat from Alabama soon terminated this repose. We tnarchecl to luka, where we were prevented from staying more than a day by the absolute re- quirements of General Price, who desired the place for his own convenience. In obedience to necessity we pushed for Corinth, whence an- other necessity turned ug back again, on the night of the same day. At Burnsville. again in camp, the foraging process was reinstated, but the interruption of succulent feed had been hard on the wagons and called for the use of the tool-chest for a few days. This was suddenly terminated by the instigation o£ General Price, who appeared at our picket lines. " Boots and saddles!" was the bugle note, and the quondam artisan was again mounted as No. 1 " right ofuide'* TRUE STOEIES OF THE WAE FOR THE HIsTON. 33 at the head of the column composed of six com- panios 7th Illinois cavalry, 11th :Missouri and 26th Illinois Infantry, three pieces of artil- lery and Birge's battalion of sharpshooters. On reaching the picket line the right guide and his comrade were advanced to the vidette post, from which "a movement was inmiediately de- tected. The comrade docli red it "Johnnies," and brought his carbine into action, while " right guicfe'' plied his spurs and reached company in time to order "About, face!" "Forward!" was the next order, and with cavalry in line, Birge's sharpshooters clearing the front, we ad- jvanced throug?h bush and brake into opeP- ground, with luka in sight. A few shells from the guns distinguished the enemy by a cloud of dust from their cover. Here Colonel Mower, commaJ!ding the brig-ade, ordered a sabre charge. Our blades glittered in the sun until we reached the ridge in front of us from whicli the Confederates had modestly re- tired. We reached the cover of the timber. At this point Company L was ordered to r. connoitre the road to luka, and w-hcn the lieutenant in command became cautious, "right guide" was directed to cross a field and examine a cabin in the opposite corner. With Blmcher as his trusting power he galloped forward, disdaining the interruption of fences, which only gave an opportunity for Blu- cher's agility, and he found an empty cabin, but decided that the well-worn roaxi from lulca to Eastport signified a military presence. Ho re- ported " luka occupied in force," and received the hooting of the entire company, which was checked, however, by a light volley froin the front and an impression on the back of one of the boys which indicated buckshot, the ball having carried higher. Influenced by this expression of opinion from the front the lieutenant showed us how to retreat by galloping off. When he had put the safety of distance behind him he halted for an ob-'ervation, and saw an officer in gray making similar observations from near the same cabin which had .just been explored. Tliis indicated the propriety of reporting back to our commander. Colonel Mower was found making observations from tlie cover of a rail pile. The day was now advanced and dinner would have been acccpta'^le. Believing that in luka there would be found culi- nary supplies, the boys vigorously drclared, "luka is empty. Take us into luka." But from Elu- cher's saddle came the contradiction. "They are t^ere in force, or what is left are all buglers," because when the little volley which started our lieutenant was heard, bugles were blown along the cover of the timber. And, as learned after- wa.rd, 5,000 Confederates were then in saddle. Colonel Mower did not go on to luka, but tried strategy. In the shade of the evening, while a battalion of cavalry made a feint of a sabre charge from the right, the whole front of the woods be- hind was lighted with fires to indicate an encamp- ment. When the tliick brush and the night, with the emphasis of a volley in front of ua, induced the return of the gallant battalion, the absence of Colonel Mower on his way back to Bumsville decided our return. To break tJie silence of the night march we had the doleful notes of a rail- road engine which the enemy had captured mid- way between Burnsville and luka ; they had built under it its last fires, whicli made the Whistle blow continuously till its voice died away to silence. The next day witnessed the investment of luka, while no notice is taken of him who had made the careful reconnoissance and tlie cor- rect report. He had done his duty. Price Avas now in the trap, with gunboats on the Tennessee in the rear, and Grant and Rosecrans in the front- Out of all this, however, the wily Confederate made his way after all. History has reported the result. But how did he get through our lines ; for really there was no battle of luka ? It is stated that a feeble pursuit of Price was made. When the lines Avere closed on luka Colonel IMower commanded the brigade composed of the 26th Illinois, the 11th Missouri and the 6th Ohio Battery. From an officer of the 26th Illinois I have it that Colonel Mower lay drunk in his tent, the brigade at rest, and tho artillery with horses detached. I have this from one of ite men. A bluff covered one side, and along this Price advanced until he got his artillery in range of the Ohio battery. He shot down the Ohio horses, spiked his own guns, and attached the teams to the Ohio battery, with whicli he went off while Mower was waking up, and, for- getful of his brigade, gave the tactical om- mand ( ?j, "Eleventh aMissouri, pitch in!" Tlio faithful men did "pitch in" at the word of their commander ; but when the Major in command got to horse he hastily rescued his regiment from unprotected slaughter and Price's surprise. When the Major came back Mower met him and ordered him under arrest, to which the response came: "You dry up, or I will put you under an arrest from which you will never obtain release." And this came from behind tho Major's pistol. Mower went to his tent. It is with regret for the man who was other- wise capable of the position he occupied that this mention is made. Price's intentions! as to Coxintli were evident. While he was in column we were scattered around the country: and in the race we had hardly got into occupation before Price's guns began to pour their thunder on the key of the South. Why did he not succeed in capturing Corintji? To answer this the circumstances have to be considered. A Louisiana regiment proffered their service for the assault : but when the Idght of day revealed the teeth of the fortification, their courage failed them. Had they held steadfast Corinth would doubtless have changed commanders that day. To supply their place and effect Price's purpose, two regiments from Texas were drafted for the work. The indispensable whiskey was applied " to geti their courage to the sticking point." On onr f=ide deteimination was working in a seientifio man- ner. And, with the aid of hay bales, a flank bat- tery was erected to cover the face af Fort Robinet. When the fated moment came, the foe, eight deep, walked into the trench, and the flank UJittcry, with grape and canister, laid tTiem low as grass in swath from tlie mower's scythe. Not a man 34 LIBE.UJY OF TEIBUNE EXTRAS. passed the rampart except the oflficer who led the assault, and he was infroduced unceremoniously by the hair of the head. One of our men reached over and caught the reckless leader. I did not witiness the carnage, and I am thankful that I wa^ spared the sight. It was sufficient to see the ghastly picture which the photographic camera gathered of that pUe of the carnage of war. While with breatJiless anxiety the Union force was waiting the fearful shock which we have just related, and the cavalry waa massed in a hollow, the bugle gave "Officers' Call," and hasitily the Union officers went to their chief. Tliat brief interview showed the doubt of General Eosecrans as to the event of the day. If it had T'ot been for the storm of iron hail which fell from that hurried hay pile, the story of the Eebellion would have been told differently in the Southwest. An order now came sending a cavalry battalion to the cross- roads on the east, to Kossuth; and Company L. 7th Iin^^ois, was soon beyond the line of the storm of battle. It was a most important posi- tion, but for the hour a quiet place. The soldiers found secreted a pen of corn, which was very acceptable to tlie horses after a twelve- mile march in the night previous. The men took breakfast and dinner. Scarcely was this done when " crack, crack," we^t the carbines on the picket line. A moment, and we are in the sad- dle, an"a retired under cover of a ridge, while the captain in command, who could not wield a pen, perhaps, with skill, but could give forci- ble expression verbally to what was on his mind, as he used to do when he guided his stages with the United States Mail from Galena, rode out in full view on the crest of the ridge. Here he was saluted with the firing of revolvers, for Price a/nd his staff were seeking a way of retreat to the Hatchie Ford, as the most con- venient route. In response to these small arms, the captain demanded "that they dry that up,'' and in his confidence declared " if that is the game you are at, we will give you enough of it, for we are here in force." Tlie question was heard, " Who are you ?" The answer came, " Jack- son's cavalry, by ! " emphasized by breech- loading carbines. Tliis pebble in the brook changed the current of Price's retreat, and sent him to the bridge, where he had to contend all the next day with our reinforcements for a passage. We had the shorte.st road, however, and during the same day had artillery ready, which told heavily on the rear of Price's column. Having made a final disposition of Price in the South, we began to think of a warmer place for the winter. We passed through Holl.y Springs to look at AbbeA^ille, a fearful fortification in de- fence of the passage of the Hatchie. A few days were spent in camp in this neighborhood, and foraging was again the order. The condition of the wagon train had not improved, and the work of repair had to be repeated. A ginhouse was relieved of a lot of its flooring, and the black- smith shop of the plantation supplied a bellows. We had six portable forges, but no coal, and could not raise a heat with the fuel we extempo- rized, but with this one bellows we could do more than with all the forges. AVliile recon- uoitering before Abbeville one of our men said to our ]\Iajor : " I don't believe there is a soul left in that fort" ; although the dark features indicated great guns, and loud reports from them warned us not to intrude on the heights across the river. He proposed to rislc the investiga- tion and cross the river. The bridge had been burned, and ho swam his horse over. With the spurs of anxiety urging him, and the rowels gi^^Ilg speed to Ms horse, in a little wliile the battlements of Abbeville displayed a man on horseback waving his hat, and the signal testi- fied the correctness of his opinion. In answer a shout of delight was heard. The quiet of camp was changed to the excitement of the march. Caution was observed in the movement into the vei-y heart of the Confedracy, aali7e its full import, and no other man can. On came the galloping horsemen. "By fours, a-ally ! " was the order, and the four " comrades in arms" rushed to each other, firmly planted their feet together, came to a ''charge bayonet" and awaited the rusJi with bated breath, de- termined to do or die. The cavalry discovered •our timely movement, whe<'led to the right, turned into a lane, and trotted back, while we gave them parting shots from our Enfields and cheered them —for what I hardly know, except that it wavS a propensity indulged in at every brave act of •either friend oi- foe, and reviving to our spirits. Tlie lir^e was again reformed and strengthened. We took "half distance" and moved forward at " quick step" until w^ caught up and were again engaged. But with the line strengthened we forced the retre.^t without stopping. Ask an old soldier how he felt when chasing a retreating " I uttcinut," with his long hair and old slouched liat. and I venture to say he wiU become animated .in a moment, tnke a chew cf navj-, and proceed to tire you out with an account of e^ploits in pedestrianism, "graybacks, " wormy hardtack and flag planting which would insure the vote of every M. C. for a pension ; and every word of it true. We examined our cartrilge boxes an 1 found that ammunition was growing less, which reminded us to make our shots with better aim. Another impediment confronted us. Black clouds of smoke were seen to ascend in our front, and we discovered the woods on fire. The rebels in their desperation at our rapid advance and to retard •our progress had set fire to the woods, and now the fine pine leaves and cones furnished material for a quick and hot fire through which we must pass. Tliere was nothing which should stop a soldier when following the retreating foe, except impenetrable diflicultif^s and death. Through ■.thii< burning wood with the nierilian sun pcuring its direct rays upon their unprotected heads, never d in Petersburg before night. When you get there you will find out." He was a fine- It oking officer and I could only admire the an- swer, although I was not a bit the wiser on ac- count of it. It was 4 p. m., eleven hours since we had c'eployed as skirmishers. INo rest, no dinner, ex- cept the nibbling of a hardtack. We greeted 1 ho relief Avith joy. On the right of us the battle was raging with awful fury. The rattle of :-.mall arms and the roar of cannon made the earth tremble, and we trem])Ied also. A lull ahvays follows the storm of battle, like some mighty giant draAving an inspiration preparatory to a reneAval of the conflict. What sourd is this Ihat p-e-^ts our ear, Echoing loud from left and rear? The practised ear of the old soldier, private though he be, knew full well the meaning. It Avas an attack in our rear from Richmond way. We ^lought of the morroAV with apprehension. The sun sank to rest behind the western tree- to[js, sure to rise again the following day ; the souls of hundreds of braA'e and true comrades had also sunk to rest, but not to rise until the morning of the resurrection. Tlie regiment took its assigned position. The men dropped upon the ground and gathered strength from " Nature's SAveet restorer, balmy sleep. " The moon shone forth Avith mellow light, casting uncannj^ shadows among the trees. Tlie enemy's dead and wounded lay l)etween the lines, the latter groaning in pain and begging Ijoth for help and a drop o.f Avater to cool their feA'erish lips and parched tongues. Our hearts melted in sympathy, and some craAvled out to them and administ'ered help, wlule the less seA'erely wounded were helped within the lines. We heard the rumble of cars approaching, and full A\-ell Ave knew tliat the enemy Avere receiving reinforcements, for Ioav as were the tones in which then- orders Avere giA-en they Avere as distinct to our ear as those of our oAvn officers. A night attack! Who can describe it? First the crack of the picket's rifle broke the stillness of the niglit. Another and anotlier, in rapid .'ucccssion, a A-olley, and then the thunder of the 38 LIBEAEY OF TEIBUNE EXTRAS. / artiMery. The enemy was repulsed, the fire slack- ens, stops, and silence again reigmed except the agonizing groans of the wounded and dying. Three times they charged ere the morning dawned. With the first gray streaks we were in motion. " rUe. left, cross the railroad 1 " And we knew it was a retreat back to camp. What more can I add, except to say: "'Some one had blundered." JAMES HANE, / Co. C, 8l8t N. Y. V. Inft. WHEN LINCOLN'S EUNERAL CAR PASSED. y Spencertown, N. Y., Feb. 4.— The following ^ story came into my possession in 1890, in the form of a letter to me from its author. Think- ing that it may be of interest to the readers of The Tribune, I send it for publication. GEORGE P. JENNINGS. In compliant with request, I will relate a reminiscence of the War of the Rebellion, which, in part, I related to you at the pavihon on the Green's Farms Beach not long ago. The General Government had established hos- pitals at many places for the treatment of gick and wounded soldiers. Among the number was one at the city of York, Penn., called the United States General Hospital. Along with many other soldiers, it was my good fortune to be sent to the place named during March, 1865. I say "good fortune'' because of the kind treatment I received there. Not only wise and humane surgeons, but air, water, food and kindness of attendants all combiued rap- idly to restore to health the poor, broken bodies of the patients. In justice I must say the hos- pital at York was second to none in the country. Only one tiling occurred while I was there which I could not understand, and was by me incomprehensible and utterly inexcusable on any grounds whatever. I will try to relate the circumstance wliich sent myself, along with some thirty or forty other soldiers, with undue haste from York to Baltimore. The grounds devoted to hospital purposes con- sisted of about twenty-five acres of land, on which stood the barracks, chapel, cook-houses, vault for the dead, guardhouse, etc. The land was in a tract nearly square, with barracl^s fencing the two sides lying next the city. The otlier two sides were inclosed with a board fence thirteen feet high. This tight fence, I must say, was probably intended to keep outsiders out, instead of keeping- the soldiers in. The officials were very kind, granting permits to all who were able to walk out during the day, the only injunction being to be sure and return by the time the permit (called a pass) was up. Tliey refused me a pass only once, and never gave me the chance to ask for another. On the morning of AprU 15 I saw the flag at headquarters drop to half-mast, and there stop. Hastening toward headquarters to find out the trouble, I met a comrade coming to, teM us of Booth's terrible deed of the night before. Then," indeed, there was sorrow in the camp, at first dumb and silent. As soon as the gloomy news was verified the little knots of soldiers broke up,^ and each man seemed anxious to steal away in solitude, and to be alone. It was a dark, dismal day of mourning by strong-minded and brave men. How heavy seemed the timel Of course^. toward night, came the reaction ; to some sooner than to others. I leave to your own vivid imagin- ation the task to picture the indescribable utter- ances of woe and wretchedness prophesied lor our country by those grief -stricken men, and their utterly useless curses on the head of the wUd fanatic who was the cause of the Nation's grief. Days went on. The funeral train with the catafalque would pass through Yoiji: on its way. Every soldier there was anxious to see the sacred pageant. 'rhe day arrived at last. We all knew uke time when the train would ar- rive, amd all expected that the hospital gates would be thrown open wide on that occasion. But judge of my surprise, waen,. as I went along the walk toward the main en- trance, I saw every soldier who could hobble out on crutches or otherwise gathered into little groups near the middle of the grounds. What could it mean? Surely one-half at least were men able to get to the depot. Then I saw that the gate was closed. I turned into the head- quarters and asked for a pass, determined that I would go if no one else did. The official in- formed me that no passes would be granted that day, and that I must return to my quarters. Friend George, "where there is a will, there- is a way." Especially when one has the key! Instead of going to mj quarters, I went among the soldiers. There were some 500 men, perhaps l,O0a, as anxious to get out as I was, and all growling at our hard lot in not being able to go out. All that we couiu possibly have seen from the inside would have been the smoke of the engine, as the train would pass into the cjty. I proposed that we make a break through the fence. "Oh," came the replj-, "they will put us in the guardhouse." My time was limited. So without waiting to bandy words, I passeu on into the centre of the men, took oii my cap and asked if there were any New- York men there. Five or six men sprang up, saying tliey were New-York men, and asked, "What's up.^*" In a few word» I told them that that was one of the great days of our lives, and I for one was ready to smash a hole through that fence and see that sacred train, let the consequences be what they might. It only needed a spark to start the fire. The result was every man who could walk was soon drawn up in line on the bank of the rail- road cut through wliich the train would come. I stood at the left of the line, told them to- " get into the position of soldiers, take off their caps and salute the train as it went by." We had hardly got into position when on cam-^ the engine and tender sent ahead to see that the track was clear. The engineer shouted to us to keep our position, as the train would be along in ten minutes. Scarcely had five minutes gone by when around the curve came the engine drawing the most TEUE STOEIES OF THE WAE FOE THE UNION. 39 illustrious body which ever has or ever will in all probability pass through the city of York. We saluted the noble escort properly, and from every car window and platform the salutation was re- turned. We then felt within ourselves that no guardhouse in York, or anywhere else, would ever, or could ever, for one moment cause ns to regret the step we had taken. After the train had passed by we broke ranks and every soldier immediately returned into the pen and to his quarters. There is another chapter to this, but*ifearing that you may, in a mejis- ure, consider me egotistical, I will close here.— L. S. Griswold. A FIGHTING EDITOE. In the spring of 1861, Dr. Charles Elliott edited "The Central Christian Advocate" in the third story of a business block in St. E/ouia, Mo. "The Southern Chrisiian Advocate," which rep- resented the views of the South, was at tlie time published in the secc^d story of the same build- ing. The two editors, 'who had always been per- oonally friendly to each other, wei-e Avide apart on the great question of disunion, which was stirring the hearts of the people. Dr. Elliott was a genial Irishman of great ability and courage. -He was one of the most learned men in the country. It is a remarkable fast that he had never been in a college until he was chosen president of one of the finest Western institutions of learning, yet he was master of all the highest university studies taught. Latin, Greek, Hebrew, French, German, Sanscrit, Spanish and many other languages were as familiar to him as the English', and he was profoundly versed in the natural sciences and mathematics. He was a thorough scholar, and made a good college presi- dent. But the Church needed a strong, loyal man", with the' courage to stand for the truth, at tins outpost, and Dr. Elliott was chosen. Both editors were able and fearless men, and they fought many a hard battle with theii- pens before the bombardment of Fort Sumter. Aiter the fall of Sumter, the excitement in St. Louis ran high. The city Avas abouD evenly divided in sentiment, and no one dared to predict what a day or an hour would bring forth. The Stars and Stripes, symbolizing the Union cause, and the State flag, representing the disunion cause, floated here and there side by side on adjoining buildings. The two editors grew more intense in feeling as the conflict deepened. Dr. Elliott's strong, masterly arraignment of the South for the crime of slavery, and his cutting sarcasm over secession, were almost unbearable to the managers of tlie other paper, and the latter tried to pay him back, with interest; but at first neither one actually unfurled on the building the banner which represented his principles. One day news readied St. Louis that General Price had Won a victory, and the Editor of " The Southern Christian Advocate" threw out the State flag. A few moments afterward a friend came rushing into Dr. Elliott's sanctum: "Doc- tor, they have thrown out the rebel flag down stairs." Dr. Elliott sprang from his editorial chair and rushed to the front window. Tliere, sure enough, was the flag of disunion, waving in the breeze. Dr. Elliott had prepared for just such an emergency. All the ropes and guys were ready. He ran to a closet, brought forth an immense Union flag and threw it out. The next moment it was in ite place, and was wav- ing back and forth before the windows of the office below and slapping the other flag furiously. Dr. Elliott laid out a brace of pistols on his editorial table, and took his seat to await developments. He did not have long to wait. The tramp of feet was heard on the stairs, and the Editor of " The Southern Christian Advocate'' rushed In, with some of his friends. "Take down that flag!" he thundered. " I shall not take down that flag, and if any man touches it I wiU shoot him on the spot as an enemy of my country," was Dr. Elliott's prompt reply, as he stood, pistol in hand, ready to execute his threat. After some parley the invading force retired. Shortly afterward a large Union force was thrown into St. Louis; martial law was declared and aU the rebel flags were hauled down. The beautiful flag which Dr. Elliott had displayed in front of his office continued to wave in triumph until the war was over.-(Annie Witten- myer. . ^ . BLOWING UP OF FOET HILL. In the hues of Vicksburg during the siege there was no stronger point that Fort Hill. The land stood high and the approach was almost perpen- dicular at some points. In the assignment of troops to positions General John A. Logans division was placed in front of Fort Hill. Gen- eral Logan was a man of energy and a great fighter. With the consent of his superiors in command he planned to mine Fort Hill. The work was begun at a distance in the rear, be- hind a bluff, so as to hide the operation from the Confederates. General Logan's engineers, with scientific precision, directed the tunnel toward Fort Hill. There were weary days and nights of digging before they reached the founda- tio'n of the fort. But there came to the ears of the Confederates, at last, even amid the thunder of the cannon and the screaming of shells, the sounds of the mining. Night after night men listened with their ears to the ground to the sound of the Union picks. The Confed- erates soon began to counter-mine, and it was not long before the toilers in the Union tunnel heard the" thud of the Confederate picks nearly over their hexids. They were too high to strike the Union timnel, but it was evident that no time must be lost in blowing up the fort. Tons of powder were carried in, and one bright after- noon about 2 o'clock the slow fuse was lighte r. TRUE STOr^IE.":; OF THE WAR FOR THE UNION. 41 as if the fi.i?ht were going on all over. Everj^body on each side was firing on his own responsibility. There was as much fioiitinjc in the reat as in our front. Neither side was willins" to retreat. I finally found myself tryiny to forire my waj'' ttlu-ough Ringgold Gap with one Napoleon gun, a limber-box and two badly wounded horses. The Gap was full of struggling liunianity trampling one another down iu the attempt to escape. In the mean time the rebels had come up on tJie hill- sides above us and were killing our men below like sheep. Some troops were rallied at tliis time and [)artially covered the retreat. Wo did not retreat to Chaftanooga. General Thomas rallied liis corps at Mission Ridge, and while we did not win the field of Chickamauga we fought nearly double our number for two days and nights, and Ave demoralized the rebels so badly that they were not in condition to follow us up. We lay in Chattanooga right in their front, until at Jlission Ridge and Lookout Mountain we captured or killed nearly their whole ■army.— (John Currie. 24th Illinois Infantry. MY FIRST SERIOUS ADVENTURE. >'^0T HALF SO FUXNY, HOWEVER, AS IT SEEMED TO OTHERS AT THE TIME. Emporia, Kan., Feb. 21.— I have been much in- terested in reading " Cur Chivalry in Blue'' as puljlished in our truly loyal New-York Tribune. Tliis evening my mind reverts back to the early days of the wa.' more especially, and a few reminiscences may not be void of interest to your loyal readers. When the tocsin of war sounded in 18t)l I was a quiet, unassuming granger, on a little farm in Gentry County, Missouri, having just landed from the Hawkeye State, and, like many others, a total stranger to war's alarms. Many of my nej^^hbors bore military titles, all of which I knew very little about; but on in- quiry I learned that their rank was graded by the number of darkies they owned. There was a venturesome fellow at Bedford, Iowa, by the name of Dale, who had organized a company and who thought he would take a :stroll down through our country and learn what was going on. Communication had about ceased. He cime to a point on Grand lUver known as West Point, and was there surrounded. We were ordered out on the double quick to assist him. We liad not gone far when one of the rear guard was killed by a shot fro n the brush. I was ordered forward to notify the colonel. After I had performed the sad dut^ the colonel delivered liims^f of the following bloid and thunder speech, verbatim : " Fellow-citizens, I havp ^ust learned that one •of our number has been killed from the brush. I do not know how yon feel, but I think Ave had better return to our homes and protect oar •own firesides." Some one, howcA-er, gave the command " For- Avard march ! " ignoring the colonel's braA'e con- clusion. After a weary march Ave l-'^arnod that Major Dale had compromised with the Johnnies and had returned to Iowa. At this point our number had increased to 1,000 men, Avith all lands of conveyances auH all manner of implements of Avar, from a corn- knife to the eA'er-ready flintlock rifle. The rebels, 800 strong, had taTv'en a circuitous route, and gone back south tAventy mile?', Avhcre they had fortified. It was reported that they Avere sooil- ing for a fight. The colonel, Avith blood in hia eye, soon had us on the march, eager for the fray. We luid not gone far Avhen we received a volley from a cornfield. The fences were thrown down and Ave Avent in pellmell. My horse, not being used to the sport, became unmanageable, and carried me far in the advance, but I managed to turn him up a slough and get him checked in time to. look into the barrel of a shotgun in the hands of a boy about eight or nine years old. He Avas not long in emptying its contents of bird shot in my left arm ; some of the shot I am carrying to-daJ^ After a struggle I captured the little viper, and Avas reAvarded Avith a round of laughter for my first serious adA-eature. In after years, when in the heat of battle, some one who Avas Avith me during that preA'-ious time would yell out: "Look out a bit. Cooper, there is a boy in the grass." Then after another hard day's march we camped !i.t Greenwells Ford on Grand River, tAvo miles from Avhere the rebels Avere entrenched, expect- ing battle in the morning. But, to make a long story short, another compromise Avas consummated, and true to the letter these were the terms : The Johnnies were permittod to retain their firearms and perform the humiliating duty of marching under the American Hag to the tune of "Yankee Doo.ile. " This they did. The most of them fol- lowed Price through all his raids in Missouri. Tlius ended our first campaign, with the loss of only three men, tAVO by accident, and one bush- whacked, Avith one wounded, as stated. Although I served in the volunteer service from that time on till the 15th of May, 1865, in the front most of the time, my first experience in war has made the most lasting impression.— iJames B. Cooper. FIRST HERO OF THE CIVIL WiVE. Nicholas Biddle, a man Avho lAvent from Pott»- ville, Fenn., and Avho was a memljer of the National light Infantry, Avho were the first troops to reach Washington, was the first man to shed his blood for the country. This regiment had only 530 men, but they reached Baltimore April 18, one day before the 6th itassachusett^. They met a howling mob in Baltimore and fought their Avay through the streets. Nicholas Biddle Avas struck on the head by a stone which was dropped from a building. He fell senseless, the blood streaming oA'cr him. His comrades carried him into a car and he finally recoA'ered. Although he AA-as sixty years old when he enlisted, he served throughout the Avar, and returned to Pottsville with those avIio surviA'ed the terrible struggle. He liv<\1 until he was eighty year:^ old, aad hia 42 LIBRARY OF TRIBUISTE EXTRAS. friends at Pottsville, Penn., have placed a suitable monument over his resting place. It bears the following inscription: " In Memory of Nicholas Bid die. Died 2d Aug., 1876, aged 80 years. His was the proud distinction of shedding the First Blood in The Late War for The Union. Being wounded while marching through Balti- more with the First Volunteers from Schuylkill County, 18th April, 1861. Erected By His Friends of Pottsxi-lle. " Mrs. Elizabeth Shearer, an army nurse, who cared for him and nursed liim back to hfe ia still living. Her home is in Springfield. Ohio. The statement made in a recent issue of The Tribune that Nicholas Biddle was the lirst volunteer soldier v/ounded in the Civil War hjis been questioned ; as has also the fact that the Pennsylvania troops were the first to reach Washington. The history is a brh;f and simple story and can easily be verified. The facts are these. Five hundred and thirty strong patriotic men volunteered, most of them from PottsviUe, Penn., including the National Light Infantry. The folJowing letter from Simon Cameron, Secretary of War, and the action of the United States Congress seems suflScient to place the truth of the matter beyond question : "Philadelphia, July 4, 1866. "I hereby certify that the Pottsville Light Infantry was the first company of volunteers whose services were offered for the defence of the Capital, at the beginning of the War of the Rebelhon. A telegram reached the War Depart- ment on April 13, 1861, making the tender. It was immediately accepted, and the company reached Washington on the 18th, with four addi- tional companies from Pennsylvania, and these were the first troops to reach the seat of Govern- ment. SIMON CAJklERON." But there is additional proof. On July 22, 1861, the United States Congress passed the following resolution : "Resolved, That the thanks of tlie House are due and are hereby tendered to the 530 soldiers from Pennsylvania who passed tlirough the mob of Baltimore and reached Washington on the 18th day of April last, for the defence of the National Capital." Wliile these troops were passing through Balti- more a mob rushed upon them. Tiie only colored man in the company was severely wound( d on the head, and was carried off the field by his white comrades. It is a remarkable fact that the first man killed in the Revolutionary war was also a colored man, Crispus Attucks, while the first man to shed blood for his country as a volunteer in our recent civil war was the colored man, Nicholas Biddle. The colored people of tie South were true to the best interests of the soldiers, and often at tlie risk of their own lives assisted them when they were escaping from Southern prisons. The sight of a black face was a pledge of food and help. ANNIE WITTENMYER. OVT OF THE JAWS OF DEATH TOM GROSER'S WAR RECORD. A STORY WHICH BEOAX AT OLUSTEE, PASSEI> THROUGH THE PAII7S OF ANDERSOXVILLE, AXD ENDED IX AX UXEXPECTED MAXXER, OX'E CHRiSTMAS EVE. Watertown, Conn., Feb. 25.— Among the earliest operations of the War for the Union in 1864 was that of the Florida expedition. President Lincoln had been informed that there were Quite a number of Unionists in that State, and he hoped that, a State government loyal to the Union might be organized and maintained if a sufficient military force were sent to support such an undertaking. Accordingly GeneraJj GiU- more, commanding the Department of the South, organized and dispatched an expedition of 5,000 men, twenty steamers and a fleet of schooners, accompanied by several gunboats. General I'ruman Seymour was in command. This- force arrived at JacksonviMe Feb. 8, 1864. The town was found deserted. With little delay the troops took up their line of march westward along the Florida Central Railroad, halting at Baldwin. General Gillmore followed the ex- pedition to this point. Having seen that ail had gone well thus far, he returned to HUton Head, leaving instructions with General Seymour not to move beyond Baldwin without further orders. Seymour, whose courage and energy were much superior to his capacity, disregarded General Gill- moi-e's orders, however, pushed on, capturing Camp Finnegau, and penetrated as far as Sander- son, subsequently falling back to Barber's. Almost the entire line of march after leaving Jacksonville was through a heavily wooded country. The Georgia pine largely predominated in the timber. Live oak, with its long, trailing mojs, was also quite common. Occasionally ther&- wouW be a clearing containinir perhaps half a dozen hou-ses or cabins and sheds, dignified with the name of " town. " Other settlements which could toast of a dozen or more buildings, would assume the more pretentious title of " city. " The level, sandy roads through the piny woods aftorded little variety of scenery, the most notice- able relief from the monotony being an occasional stretch of swamp. An old-fashioned New-England liill would have been a pleasant sight, both a-* a reminder of home and as a variation in the scenery. Now and then the route would lie through portions of the forest, where the trees had been tapped for turpentine, rosin, etc. The bark of these trees had been removed in a strip thiee or four feet long, and in width about oU' third of the tree's circumference. At the bottom of the denuded portion a sort of gutter or cavity would be seen cut into the trunk, into wliich the sap would, run and collect. Many acres of trees were observed treated in this manner. Thus far the expedition had met with little opposition. The climate, the season and the- charaeter of the roads made marching comjiara- TEUE STORIES OF THE WAR FOR THE UNION. 45 tively easy for the troops, and the men found this sort of service a pleasant change from the inaction and sameness of camp and garrison duty, and from that different kind of active service ■which many of tliem had gone tlirough on Morris Island during the preceding summer. It was always a time of genuine enjoyment when the march for tlie day was over, and, the details for camp and picket guard having been ma le, knapsack and other equipments were laid aside for a halt amid the grand and solemn pines, under which huge log fires were soon crackling and glowing; Big camp kettles filled with hot, fragrant coffee swung over the firea Tin cups and haversacks were produced ; and, sitting or lounging near the fire, taking in its genial warmth, the tired men would eat their simple meal of hard- tack and salt pork, washing them do^vn with liberal draughts of steaming coffee with a zest which an epicure would have envied. When the meal was over, pipes would be filled and lighted, and all hands would give themselves up to the relaxations of the hour. Conversation upon the experiences of the day, the prospects of the morrow, stories, jokes, banter, etc., would while away the time. After a while blankets would be unrolled, and stretching out under them, with feet to the fii-e, the men would soon be lulled to sleep by the soughing of the night breeze through the pines. Insomnia and dyspepsia under such conditions were impossibilities. TRAPPED AT OLUSTEE. After remaining several days at Barber's, Gen- eral Seymour, deceived by the report that the Confederate commander, General Finnegan, had fallen back to Lake City, started on the morning of February 20 with the design of cutting the railroad crossing the Suwanee River. The troops moved in three columns, Scammon's brigade on the right, Barton's in the centre and Hawley'a on the left, with Montgomery's brigade of colored troops as a reserve following in the rear. Hamil- ton's, Langdon's and Elder's batteries, and a detachment of the Third Rhode Island Artillery, in all sixteen guns, constituted a part of the force. Ihese three columns, after a march of eighteen mUes, came upon General Finnegan's forces about 2 p. m., ambushed in a very strong position near Olustee Statior, one flank covered by a swamp and tlie other by Ocean Pond, wliich is another name for Olustee. Here he lay, waiting for Sey- mour. Colonel Henry's cavalry and the 7th Connecticut Infantry marched right into this trap, and battle began immediately at close quarters. Hamilton's battel y came into position on the e:^reme front, and was supported by the 7th New- HamiKhire, which was in turn supported by the 8th United States Colored Infantry, the latter for the first time under fire. Both regiments held their positions with splerdid courage, and lost heavily. The field batteries also lost heavily, partieularly Hamilton's, whicli was placed less than, 150 j^ards from the enemy's front. Sharp- shooters picked off the men and horses of this battery so rapidly that in twenty minutes they had lost forty-five of their eighty-two men, and forty of their fifty horses. The battery then fell back, leaving two of its four guns. Having taken a different route. Barton's brigade, confistiug of tlie 47th, 48th and 115tli New-York regiments, did not reach the field quite so soon. When about a mile away, however, the rattle of musketry was heard by them, and the men knew there was business ahead. With quickened march they hurried on. Yery soon the wliistling shot, the wounded men, on stretchers and afoot, making their way to the rear, and the increased uproar, showed that the battle was near by. On the doublequick they came into position on the line held by the 8th United States Colored In- fantry, which fell back as they CJime up. Barton'* brigade now held the centre of the Une of bat- tle, and began firing. Around them on every side were the tall pines, extending beyond the line of vision, except in front, where there was- a partial opening. The two abandoned guns of Hamilton's battery stood silent near by, with no- one to work them. Smoke so obscured the view in front that little couTd be seen of the enemy^ but the leaden hail tearing through the Union ranks, killing and maiming many, gave ample proof that the enemy was not far away. ' Fur nearly three hours this position was held under a destructive fire. Sixty rounds of am- munition had been fired, and no more was to be had. No apparent impression had been made upon the enemy, while the total Union loss was- nearly 2,000, nearly one-half of it falling upon Barton's brigade. From the start the enemy had the advantage in numbers, position and general- ship. Almost the only redeeming features of the contest on the Union side were the valor and endurance of the troops under such adverse cir- cumstances. General Seymour, who had borne himself with conspicuous bravery during the battle, discovered the lack of ammunition and decided to retreat. Montgomery's colored brigade came up on the double-quick, and under cover of this force the troops which had been engaged were withdra^vn in good order, leaving many dead and about 250 of their most severely wounded upon the field. TRYIXG TO SAVE THE WOUNDED. A noticeable feature of the abandonment of the field was the desperate efforts of the colored troop* to save their wounded comrades from falling into the hands of the enemy, knowing full well that their fate would be an exceptionally cruel one if they Avere captured. After the ambulances and stretchers had been filled to overflowing, the big lum.bering Army wagons were driven over the field on the run. Following immediately behind were true and brave black soldiers, who caught up their wounded comrades as they came to them and gave them a toss into the swaying, jolting' wagon, pilia^' them in one upon another. It was a harsh ordeal for the dusky sufferers, but there was no time for tender treatment just then. Cruel as it must have been, the alternative would probably have been more so. A few of the wounded secured seats upon tlie gun caissons. 44 LIBEAEY OF TEIBL-^'E EXTRAS. Others were borne off the neld upon the backs or in. the arms of comxadea. Some limped along after the retreating column as best they could, some of them succeeding in reaclung camp, while the remainder either died by the way or were captured, by the enemy. When it was found that the wounded must be left upon the field, Dr Devendorf, surgeon of the 48th New-York, and Piivate Gilsoe, of the same legiment, voluntarily remained with them to look after their wounds and help them so far as possible. The defeated and exhausted array arrived at barber's about 2 o'clock next morning, having marched thirty-six miles and fought the enemy three hours since the pre^-ious morning. AfteV a few hours' rest, the retreat was resumed, and continued untU Jacksonville was reached, Feb- ruary 25. On the way back a large 'luantity of provisions and stores, whose value was esti- mated to be at least $1,000,000, was burned to prevent falling into the enemy's possession. Thus ended the Florida expedition. REPORTED DEAD. Corporal Thomas Groser, the story of whose experiences, beginning vrith the battle of 01 us- tee, it is now proposed to relate, was a member of Company C, 48th N. Y. Infantry, and also a cousin and comrade of th? writer. While the contest amid the pines was going on Tom was shot tiu-ough the body, the "ball, as ■was afterward learned, entering the right breast, passing through the lungs and out at the back. A moan behiud called my attention to Tom, of whose proximity untU then I was unaware. -•■Are you hit, Tom?" I asked. His reply was a slight inclination of the head as lie moved his hand to his breast. iMany other comrades had already fallen around me, but this wounding of one who wa.s almost a brother, with whom I ha4 played and laeen associated from earliest childhood, my nearest and dearest com- rade, with whom I shared the same blanket at night, was a deep shock and caused me to realize more sharply than ever before the meaning of war. With very little hope of success I en- deavored to get permission to attend to Tom in his time of need, and, as I anticipated, was refused. Orders from the commanding general were strict and peremptory, that no man while in action was to leave the works unless wounded. The ambulance corps was expected to come for all who needed help. Tom had to make his way to the rear unaided, and I lost sight of him a little later, as I feared forever. By inquiry af- terward I learned from various sources that dur- ing the battle and up to the time of the re- treat he had been seen by one or another, who either thought him dying or hopelessly wounded. TEe thought of Tom, a prisoner and dyina-. far from friends and home, gave additional bitter- ness to that eventful night march back from Clustee. It was a cruel piece of news to send to a father concerning his firstborn. Notwithstandin2 the slight ground for hop?, the father and his friends still hoped for more favor- able news, but about a month later a communica- tion w::s received from the Confederate com- mander in Florida. This gave a classified list of prisoners hell in tliat region by the Confederates, specifj-ing those who weie sound, those who were sick or wounded, and those who had died, with date, place and cau« of death. Among the lat- ter occurred the name of Corporal Thomas Groser, who was reported to have died at Lake City on a given date, from a gunshot wound through the right breast. SAVED BY TEXDER SOUTHERX WOMEN. Eetiurning now to the battlefield, let us see what Tom's fate really was. Through the efforts of Surgeon Devendorf and Private Gilsoe, who had so nobly remained upon the field, many of the wounded, including Tom, were brought together. Fires were built, and, so far as possible, wounds were attended to, and everything done to make the unfortunates comfortable. Throughout the long night and until the following afternoon they remained, when they were removed to the rail- road and thence to Lake City, and placed in so- caUed "hospitals." These were barns affurding little else than shelter and strav.- for, not aU, but a part, of the men to lie upon, and were, per- haps, all the aecommodations that could be looked for from the authorities. Quite a number of the lady reside.nts of Lake City, however, by their humane kindness and devoted treatment did noble and effective ser^"ice in alleviating suffering and saving life, placing the recipients of their good deeds under lifelong ofcligationa Soon after Tom's introduction to hospital two of these noble women, ^Mrs. Young and M^s. Teasdale, found him helpless and in a critical condition. Their sympathies were aroused, and while he remained there they took an especial interest in him, bringing palatable and nutritious food and many other supplies for his comfort and benefit. After a while he wbs removed to the Fifth Ward, about a mile away, where he again found friends. One of them. Miss Hancock, was par- ticularly devoted. Perhaps because of his re- moval, his condition soon reached its most critical stage. To the faithful and skilful nursing of Miss Hancock was it specially due ihat he came through alive. To her, as Tom said, he owed his lite. Later on he was again moved, to the Third Ward, or "Yank's Hospital." as it was commonly called. This was near Mrs. Young's home, and here he received many kind attentions from that lady. He also found another excellent friend in Mrs. Duvall, whose resid.?nce was next to the hospital. Miss Hancock stUl continued faithful in her ministrations, ^^siting l.im almost daily, although Kving quite a distance away. A genial climate and season, and, above and beyond all, the inestimable Jiindness and devotion of these warm-hearted and tender women, enabled Tom, after two and a half months' confinement, to leave his bed a convalescent. For a brief time now he became a guest in Mrs. Young's house, where he spent many pleasant hours while gaining back some degree of healtb and strength. All too soon, however, this came to an end by order of the authorities, and Tom TEUE STOEIES OF THE WAE TOll THE UNION. 45 realized more fully than he had before that he was a prisoner. PrisMjn life in this locality does not appear to have been cbaracterized by the brutality and inhumanity which were such marked features in so many of the Confederate prisons. Still, it was rjuite differ- ent from liberty: and so Tom, believing his chances of exchang^e would be better the further North he went, had expressed a desire to be sent in that direction. Most unhappUj- for him, as he afterward found, the desire was soon gratified. Karly in Maj- himself and a comrade nametl Parker were sent away under guard, little real- izing >vhat was in store for them. Tom had an old silver watch, which he had been able thus far to retain, and which had cost originally >!i:?. Just before leaving Lake City he sold this for $225, Confederate money. With a portion of this sum he purchased a stock of provisions, among which were two dozen eggs at 85 per dozen. Faithful Miss Hancock's parting gift was a .wel3»-filled haversack of edibles. Ite now parted from those who had so unmistak- ably proved themselves true friends to him in time of need ; who had found the Northern boy, far from home and friends, sick unto death and in prison, and had faithfully ministered unto Jiim \MiLle life coi:tinued he could never cease to hold them in most grateful remembrance. THROUGH THE •' GATES OF HELL,.'' Tlie journey northward terminated at Anderson- \ille. A.=; he passed through its yawning death- way he received as his first salutation, " Hello, Grover ! Yer going to take up yer quarters in the Bull Pen. are yer.'" The greeting came from a comrade of his own company and regiment named Davis, who had also been captured at Olustee, who with more truth then kindness added, as Tom passed inside, " Ilie gates of hell have closed upon you. I've been in a good many bad boxes during my life, but in nothing to equd this." Confirmation of these disheartening statements came swiftly in the gaunt, hoUow-ej'ed, ragged and squalid men whom he found within that fatal in- closure, a ni-mber of tliem his ovra comrades captured at "V\"a3ner and Olustee. The horrors and inhumanities of Ander8on"ille and other Confederate prisons have eo often been told that I shall not here repeat them in detail In common with its many thousands, Tom had his full share of those awful exiieriences. Siiiv- ering, unpheltered through the night and the cold, pelting storm, burned In the shadeless sun, hungry often and continuously, using sometimes to appease his hunger what would be refused b5j dogs, scantily clothed, doomed to see most of his comrades die around him from starvation or disease engendei-ed by their cruel situation, he became himself a victim of scurvy, his body breaking out with sores and his teeth nearly drop- ping from their gums. He saw the dead stripped of their scanty rags and carelessly thro^vn into a pile, the bodies lying sometimes for days un- covered and changing. He realized the nearness of a similar fale for himself. He saw the infamous Wurz with fo!:l and blaspJiemous epithets insult and kick the sick and helpless. All these and other experiences were his— some of them almost- incredible and scarcely fit for relation. A TERRIBLE DISAPPOIXTMEXT. Like others tihere he made several attempts to escape hy tunnelling, but his last venture of this kind was the only one which came near success. All others failed through premature discovery of the tunnels, which had either passed too near the surface or terminated too near the outer line of the stockade. The authorities were hunting for these underground passages from day to day by stamping upon the ground near the stockade and probing it with ramrods. Profiting by the experience gained in former nn- succe.ss,ful attempts, a party of a dozen, including^ Tom, began another tunnel, determined that this time they would have it both deep enough and long enough to escape the Eebel ramrods, the stamping and the sentries. Some of the party had a sort of tent near the Deadline, and here operations began by going straight downward as- much as twenty feet, and then horizontblly toward the outer world. The only implements- available were tin cups, a large tin pan with two long strings attached on opposite sides, and a few bags and haversacks. The mode of operation was as follows : One man with cup in hand would enter the tunnel, hauling the large pan behind. Scraping away the earth with his cup, he would fill the pan. A jerk would be given upon one of the long strings leading to the tunnel's entrance as a signal that the pan was^ full. It was then drawn out, emptied into the bags and haversacks of those who were waiting to receive it and put back in the tunnel. Another jerk upon the opposite side string would notify the man inside that the pan was empty, and he would haul it back and refiU it. Taking the earth in their haversacks and going in various directions from the tent the men would scatter it about camp in such a manner as not to l^e notice- able. Each memljer of the party took his turn in the different parts of the work, which could only be carried on during nights which were stormy or when there was no moon. Extreme caution was necessary, for the guards were watch- ing sliarply. Wliile work upon the tunnel was going on each one of the party was saA"iug from his starvation rations a trifle toward making up a small store to subsist upon after the hoped for escape. "Work upon this tunnel was kept up for three months, by wliich time they had scraped out a tunnel two feet wide, four feet liigh and seventy- five feet long. Tliis they estimated would bring them about thirty feet beyond the outer Ime of the stockade, and far enough from the sentries (they hoped) to avoid observation. Striking up- ward the work was continued untO the surface was reached one morning shortly before day- break. The tunnel was successfully completed. There was nothing to prevent their passage through it from the horrible prison pen to the outer world, and a chance for ultimate escape. Noth- ing except the near approach of daylight. A 46 m'.EAEY or TEIBUNP] EXTEAS. portion of the party favored going at once, but after consultation it waa decided to defer de- parture until the next rdght, and so have the advantage of several hours of darkness, under •cover of which they hoped to get well away from the region of the prison. The outlet was filled up with brush, leaves, etc., in such a manner as to prevent observation, and the party returned to pass another long day of mingled misery, anxiety and hope. Darkness came at last with- out discovery. Taking their small stock of provisions, the party entered the tunnel in single file, having arranged with comrades who were, unable or un- willing to make the venture to close up the out- let in the event of a successful escape, which would keep the tunnel from the knowledge of the prison authorities and thus save the party from pursuit. The end of the tunnel was reached. The obstruction was removed and the leader was about to pass out when, in the distance, he heard the approach of the Officers of the Day and Guard making one of their customary rounds. In making these rounds their habit was to pass close to the stockade, as the men well knew. So, apprehending little danger, word was passed along to keep quiet until the party had passed. But fate was against them. As the officers ap- proached at a smart gallop the horse of one fiwerved outward in such a direction as to bring him directly over the outlet, into which he stum- bled. They were discovered. The two men near- est were seized by the officers, and the rest escaped back to the miseries they fondly hoped had been left behind. To say it was a bitter disappointment but faintly expresses their feelings. To come so near success and then fail through so slight and accidental a cause : Xll their months of labor and anxiety and hope had come to naught. The wretched prison life must again be taken up and continued indefinitely. SENT FURXEEH NOKTH. "With the month of October came a change. General |Sherman's operations in Georgia, the uncertainty of the Confederates as to where he would strike next, and his proximity to An- dersonville led them to break up the prison camp there. A part of the prisoners were sent to Plorida, some were sent to Alabama, others to Millen, Ga., and about 11,000, including Tom, were sent to Charleston. Here the last named body were caanped two weeks outside the city and then removed to the jailyard, where for another week they were packed, as Tom said, like pigs in a sty. As a body, however, the prisoners while at Charleston fared better, so far as Tom's experien3e and observation went* than at any other place after he left Lake City. Some of the people, and particularly the Sisters of Mercy, were strenuous in their efforts to aid the prisoners, bringing them food, tobacco and other articles of either necessity or comfort, throwing them over the walls and stockade, they being eagerly seized by the unfortunates inside. The lives of many men were saved by the humane attentions of those kind friends. At the end of three weeks the prisoners were again moved and brought up to Florence, S. C, which was an Andersonville on a smaller scale. Tom character- ized the change as "jumping from the frying- pan into the fire." Here, among others, he met Corporal Henry Lang, of his own company and regiment. Lang liad been a political refugee from Hungary, and with Kossuth and others had found a welcome shelter under the Stars and Stripes. In grati- tude for this he had enlisted as a private sol- dier for the defense of that flag, and like Tom, had been wounded amd taken prisoner at Olustee. TOM'S RECOVERY REPORTED. Near the close of the year 1864, after prolonged negotiations and delays, after starvation, disease and despair had claimed thousands of victims, leaving others to linger on through a miserable existence as wrecks and idiots, an agreement for exchange of prisoners was finally concluded. Those who were left of the long-suffering victims of a system of treatment born of and fostered by the spirit of slavery were released. Corporal Lang, who still suffered from his wound, was one of the first to be exchanged. In com- pliance with a promise made to Tom, he went to the house of the latter in Brooklyn, N. Y., and gave to the incredulous family the startling news that he had left Tom alive, recovered from his wound, in the Florence stockade only a short tim^ before. It could not be possible! There must be some mistake! The news which had come to them nearly a year before of the battle, of the wounding and capture of Tom, and a little later the circumstantial and explicit report of his death, had removed all hope. They had come to regard Tom as one they should never look upon again. But where the heart inclines hope can easily be renewed. Lang's positive assurances that it was their Tom whose messages he had brought, of whom he had been telling them, brought back a new feeling to their hearts : and Lang left them, with a promise to return a week later, on cThrist- mas Eve, when, meeting a full assemblage of friends, he would give them a full and detailed account of Tom's experiences, situation and chances for exchange. OH, THE PITY OF IT 1 Early in December, not long after Lang had been exchanged, another lot for exchange was called for from Florence. Men in the poorest physical condition mostly were selected. When the lot was about completed ohe of the number was found to be unable to go, and Tom was called to take his place. Clad only in shirt and drawers, with sleeves rolled aoove elbows and drawers rolled above his knees, so that It could more plainly be seen he was not too comfortable nor in too good condition, he presented himself at the gate, and was passed. Tlie two following nights were passed in the "vicinity of the stockade, with- out shelter or fire, and with but little food. The second night was made additionally miserable by a cold rain. Nert morning the prisoners were packed into freight cars so tightly as scarcely to be able to stir. Tlie doors were closed, thus cutting off almost entirely the supply of fresh air; and In this condition they were kept until TRUE STORIES OF TTTE WAR FOR THE UNION. 4; they readied the point of emijarkation the follow- ing morning. As Tom was about to leave the cur he saw at his feet one whom he supposed asleep, and tried to waken him ; but lie soon discovered that his 'somi'ade was In the sleep Avhich knows no earthly awakening. A few feet bo\ond lay another in the same condition. Fr.rther investigation showed a number of the lifeless forms of men who had perished from suffocation or exhaustion. On the threshold of life they had met death. Home and its friends, with health and happiness, had ap- peared to them only like a beautiful but distant vision of heaven, never to be realized on earth again. Through a bitter, terrible experience had Tom realized the truth and force of that salutation which had met him as he passed inside that stock- ade at Andersonv'lle : "The gates of hell have closed upon you." Now, as he stepped upon the deck of the Union steamer which was to bear him to Camp Parole, Annapolis, and saw the old flag floating above, and felt himself safely under its protecting stars once more, with kind and sympa- tliizing hearts and hands ministering to his needs, clean, warmly clothed, fed abundantly with whole- some food, with home and friends soon to be reached, it must have appeared by contrast as though the gates of heaven had opened unto him. CHKISTMAS EVE AT FATHER GROSER'S. Christmas Eye jbad come, ushering in the most joyous festival of the year. This was the season when long-parted loved ones gather and greet each other within the loved circle of home. A goodly company of Tom's friends had assembled at Father Groser's comfoi table home, and Corporal Lang was expected as the honored guest of the evening. They were there to meet him, and to hear from his lips the story of Tom's experiences eince Olustee, and \o discuss the prospects of Ms release from that Southern prison pen. The fire in the grate burned with a brightness and glow which warmed and cheered thein all. The lights, also, were burning brightly, illuminating all within and streaming from the windows into the outer darkness, making the siene inside cosey and attractive to the passers by. rresently a step was heard at the door, fol- lowed shortly by a ring. " That must be Lang." Emily, Tom's youngest sister, sprang to admit him, but Lang had not come. In his place stood one whom, notwithstanding his emaciation and marks of suffering upon his features, she quickly kneAV to be her brotlier. Her arms were about Lis neck, and joyfully sho cried, " Oh I It's Tom I It's Tom I" In an instant the father was at the dcor, the rest following. Looking long and earnestly, until convinced that it was indeed his own first-born boy, he seized him in his arms and bore him bodily up the stairway into his own chamber, when, placing him upon the bed, he stood and looked upon him, with streaming eyes and agitated form, entirely overcome with emotion. Few were the words spoken thgn by either. Their heai-ts were too full for utterance. Other friends crowded around, anxious to see for themselves that it was indeed Tom, and to share in the joy of his virtual rosurrection. Tears fell from many eyes but they were happy ones. The son that was lost was found. He that was dead was aUve again. Not the least remarkable feature of this hap- py reunion was the fact that it was not. as would naturally be supposed, prearranged. Corporal Lang, for some reason, could not keep his a.i>- pointment, while Tom had made his way home* from ICamp Parole to arrive as just related. The morrow was indeed a " Merry Christmas" to this reunited family, and to Tom, fresh from the horrors of Andersouville, it must have been especially so. His i^hysical condition when exchanged was little better than that of a living skeleton. For months after his arrival home one of his chief occupations was eating to appease his ravenous appetite and replace the ilost flesh. AT REST. Tom was spared to his friends many years, but the bullet which pierced his body at Olustee and his subsequent horrible prison experiences were the ultimate causes of his death. He has joined the Grand Army on the further shore. His mortal remains lie under the sod at Greenwood, near mother and father, the former having preceded him several years before the war, the latter fol- lowing soon after Tom. It is no small consolation to Tom's surviving friends to know that he rests with those who were near and dear to him, in- stead of filling an unknown and lonely, though no less honorable, grave in the far-off South. And when the history of the great conflict is rounded out and complete, and its significance fully appreciated, the descendants of Tom's kin (he never married), as they join in the annually re- curring' ceremonies in remembrance and honor of the savior of the Union, will recount the story here so imperfectly told, wlule they point with love and pride to the lowly mound lender which rest the ashes of one of the heroes of Andersou- ville.— J. J. Warner. A VERY TMELY ARREST. When the lines of battle were near Corinth, Miss., hearing of a hospitali at some little dis- tance from the town, I determined to visit it, taking supplies and delicacies with me. Two ladies accompanied me. The driver of the am- bulance, who assumed to know all about the surrounding country and who had a splendid team of horses, drove us off in (good style. After we nad been en roQce for some time go- ing s^t a rapid pace, I questioned the driver: " Are you sure you are on the right road ; it eeema to me we have come a long way?" " Oh, yes, I know the road very well." "I wonder wha€ those men are running after," remarked one of the ladies of the company. It did really seem that men were springing up out of the ground. They were running after us and waving tlieir hands; but the steady, heavy tramp of the feet of our horses drowned their voices, and we failed to hear the oft-repeated 48 LTBEARY OF 'IRIJJL'XE EXTKAS. command, " Halt '. " " Halt : " which came from every direction. " Just look back : There are a Jot of men on horseback coming at full speed," said one of the ladies. It was only a moment before the foremost rider wag near us, and he thundered out in tones I shall never forget, " Halt : " Out driver reined in his horses. "Turn your ambulance bask as uuickly as you can, you fool ! You are dri^^ing right into the enemy's camp." Tlie driver whipped up his horses and retreated at a gallop, but not until the Confetlerate shari>- shooters had begun to send their bullets flying aftei the men who had come to our rescue. Some of the missiles came dangerously near to the little ambulance company. The cans and bundles which had Ijeen placed upon the seats with so much care and held with our outstretched hands now went tumbling into a common heap on the floor, and before the race was over two of us were down on top of them. When we were at a safe distance? from the enemy, the horsemen riding near us, a halt was called, and we gathere)een unceremoniously discard- ed. These, however, were usually clothing, blank- ets or cooking utensils ; seldom anythtn? of particu- lar value. Xoi ody appeared to question or disturb Jimmie's possession of the firearm, and having after some little trouble obtained suitable cart- ridges, he soon became quite an expert in the use of the gun. Tlienceforth, on the march or in camp, the rifle was his constant companion. At length, after the celebrated "flank move- ment" down through Virginia, the army reached the James River in Jun^^ 18«4. So completely were we cjchausted by the constant marching and fighting, most of the time with scarcely enough "hard tack'' to sustain strength, that in crossing the river in the night many of the men who couU not find a place on the boat to lie do-^Ti slept soundly while standing upright on their feet, not realizing it until the stream was crossed and they began to disembark. The next day there was more hot work, skirmisMng and intrenching. "We were nearing the citadel of the Confederacy, and every inch of the way was being contested. The utmost vigilance was required. We had to be constantly on the lookout for surprL>es. Extra precautions were ordered on the picket lines. Thev were strengthened at all points, and any man found asleep on picket was to be shot instantly. I had been away for two daj's on special de- tail, and on my return was made ofiicer of the guard for the next twenty-four hours. At so critic il a moment it was felt that any faithless- ness or neglect on the part of a single man on picket might imperil the entire front. I had four sergeants and eight corporal.- under me. The men on post were stationed at intervals of about 150 feet apart, while my post was in the rear of the centre of the entire line which covered the front of our brigade. On the extreme left were posted the men of my regiment ; then came those of two ' ither New-York regiments ; and last the pickets of a Massachusetts regiment. I decided to make a tour of the entire line every two hours. I had already made my first round, returned to my post, made a cup of coffee and smoked a pipe. Those were the moments when we soldiers at the front felt that longing for home creep into our hearts. Presently I looked at my watch and it was a few minutes of 9. I buckled on my sword and very soon was at the first Massi- chusetts post. Bear in mind that tne men who had been de- tailed for picket this night, like the rest of their comrades, had been vouchsafed scarcely a wink of sleep for several nights. It was almost more than weak human nature could bear. I more than ex- pected to find that it had yielded ; and mj" orders were peremptory to shoot any man found asleep. Nevertheless as I passed each post in succession I found every man alert and attentive. Presently I reached the vicinity of my own regiment. I found the sergeant of the guard and received his report and passed on. I shall never forget that hour. It was a Southern summer night. The rdr was charged with the balmy odor peculiar to that clime. There was not a breath of it stirring, and not a sound of any character, except the occasional screech or chirp of &f)me bird of the night. The men arose to their f?et and saluted in silence as I passed. As I ap- proached one post I noticed that the man made no movement. Coming nearer still, I observed that he waa in the familiar sitting posture, his musket between his knees, about which his arms were clasped, and his head bent over them. Instantly I reahzed that he was asleep. My hand felt for mj- revolver, and I was about to use it, feeling as a murderer might be supposed to feel, remembering my orders, but something in me re- volted at the thought of killing that slpcping boy, for it did not take me long to see that il was .Timmie. I shook him savagely enough. '^ "UTiat in God's name are you doing here?" I demanded. He was awake instantly, doubtless realizing his peril. " I was asleep before I knew. " He did not attempt to say more. His face was now very pale as he rose to his feet. "You know the order, Jimmie," I said; "but Tm not going to shoot you. Wlio sent you oai here anyway ? " "I got the Adjutant to let me come out with the rest of the men for picket,*' he replied. I told him to remain where he was, and I called the corporal of the guard. "Relieve him,'' I said to the corporal, " and don't put him on again to-night. He ought not to have been al- lowed to come."' The next day occurred the terrible engagement of the 16th of June. Near the close of the day I received a slight flesh wound not at all serious 'n itself, but, with the utter e.xhaustion which had come to me, it was sufficient to knock me out. I was obliged to go to the rear. I foimd my way to the field hospital, which had been established in a deserted farmhouse, and which was the scene cf more horrors than imagination could paint. The night which followed would have required the pen of a Dante '*r the brush of a Hogarth to IKrtray in fitting expression. My own condition Tiras not so serious but that I could fully take in the surroundings. Outside the house a dozen surgeons were at work amputating arms and legs and engaged in other surgical operations. The sufferers, stret-ched on rudely improvised tables, rent the air with gro.ins and shrieks and cui-ses. A full moon was sailing calmly in the heavens, in striking contrast with the blood- curdling secenes of which she was a spectat'Or. Wi«^hin the house were the worst cases, lying upon the stretchers upon which they had been borne from the Geld of battle. I looked about to see if any of our own boys were among them. Two of the ladies of that celebrated organization which did so much in those days to temper the suffer- 50 LLBEAEY OF TEIBUA^E EXTRAS. ings of the sick and wounded soldiers, who had ]eft home and comfort behind, to aid in caring for tiiose who were wounded in battle, were at that moment bending over the prostrate figure of some poor fellow who was neai'ing " that shining shore" of wliich tbey were singing, one of them with lier hand wiping the death damp from mouth and face. Even as they sang, his soul passed away, and our young Adjutant \yho had been so bright and jolly in the morning had gone forever. With moistened eyes I turned away, and was about to pass out of the building when a faint call arrested me. I turned ; and there on my right, a few feet away, lay Jimmie. He too was dying. As I gazed down into his boyish face, now pale and pinched witli suffering, there came into his e.ves a look which I quickly translated. It selle, an ordinary and rather small open river boat. There were also several gunboats, as it was next to impossible for trans- ports to pass up or down without convoy, because -they were exposed to the risk of being fired into by the Confederate batteries. We made no stop, except at I\rillilcen's Bend * for the gunboats to coal or get some other needed supplies. We found the Clarabelle a very slow boat, and before night all of our convoy had gained so much that they were often lost to sight around bends. Before it was entirely dark, however, the other boats slackened speed and we came up abreast. Orders had been given the gun- boats to keep the transports in sight, and con- siderable caution was used the greater part of the night. On rousing ourselves at daylight, how- ever, not a boat was in sight. At the time the fact created no uneasiness. About 8 o'clock, or a little after, we reached Skipwith Landing, a coaling and supply depot for gunboats. Several gunboats were lying there ready for orders. Tlie engines of the Clarabelle wei-e stopped for a few moments, and Captain Corden, in command of our detacliment, asked : " How long since our consorts passed up ? " " About two hours, " was the answer. We continued on our way. By this time the log, which often hangs heavy in the morning, cleared away and the sun shone brightly. Every- thing seemed quiet as we slowly moved upward. Not far above the landing, on the east bank, we passed the remains of a steamboat, which had been accidentally burnekJ a short time before, several of the passengers having been burned to death. Between nine and ten o'clock we reached thei Arkansas State line. Comrade ElJis and myself were standing on the edge of the guard looking out at the west bank, talking on various subjects, more especially of going home, as our term of service would be out in a few days, when on turn- ing a sharp bend one of us said : " What a fine chance for a rebel battery." The other had not time to answer before the flash of a cannon spouted out from the bushes on the bank and a case shot burst almost in our faces. Several shots came in rapid succession before we collected our- selveis enough to seize our rifles and hunt for shel- ter. By the time we had found our guns, how- ever, every apparently secure place was well oc- cupietd. The crasli of shot and shell seemed con- tinual, and the whizzing of splinters as the shot broke through our boat was very confusing. The engineers and firemen left their posts and could not be found, and the pilot rang his bell for landing. The firing had come upon us so suddenly that it was several minutes before a sensible view of matters prevailed. The groans and moans of the wounded on the upper deck could be distmctly heard between the crashes of shot. The men were fast getting into position to use their rifles, and the noise of the firing both wa^s was inces- sant. The captain of the boat rushed up to the pilot house to change and control the vessel, while some of our boys went to the furnace and pitched in all the inflammable material they could find. Soon the boilers were straining and sizzling with a surplius of steam. Tlie engineers were hunted up, and at the point of the bayonet forced to stay at their posts. The captain, after reaching the pilot Jioulsei, turned th©' boat's head up stream again, and a full force of steam was turned on. The timbers of the frail river boat began to tremble and creak with increasing rhotion. By this time we had received several shots below the water line and water was pouring in fast. We soon moved far enough ahead to make the enemy's shots uncertain, but the water was gaining so fast that with all our steam we were making slower and slower headway. After a hasty examination by the carpenter and captain it was found necessary to make a landing as soon as possible and stop the holes, otherwise we would sink in midstream. AT THE ENEMY'S MEHCT. So far only one man had been mortally wounded, although several others had been more or less severely hurt by shot and splinters. Our speed diminitehed so rapidly that we were compelled to land about two miles above the point at which we had been ambuscaded on the opposite or east side of the river. As soon as the boat was tied fast the soldiers were taken off and marched back a slxort distance to the shade of some scatter- ing trees, where they stacked arms and were allowed to break ranks, but they were cautioned about going too far away, ireanwhile a few men were detached and ordered to cross the bend to Skipwith Landing and notify the gunboats. Our baggage, knapsacks, mules, wagons— in fact everything except our guns and what we had on our backs— were left on board the boat. The captain and hands went right to work making the necessary repairs. A few of us volunteers made a little tour with an eye to foraging while the repairs were in progress, but we were unsuccess- 52 LIBRAKY OF lEIBUNE EXTILVS. ful, and were on our way back to the boat about 3 p. m., when we were startled by the report of a cannon. As we were returning- close by tlio bank of a bayou, we forced our way through tlie thick groui^^h of cane and could see tlie Confed- erate battery working away at tbe boat, supported by a large force of infantry, who would clie«^r whenever a shot struck the boat. We imnieUately started on the run for the Clarabelle so as to save our personal effects and assist in whatever way we could. Before we had gone half tlie distance we aaw smoke and flames rising from the vessel and heard the enemy cheering. As we arrived on the ground the scene was heartrendirig in the extreme. The horses and mules were burning alive, and could not now be driven ofl.', and their cries were very affecting. The flames iticreased so rapidly that they soon cut oiT commujiication with the lx)at, although several of the men made every effort to drive off or into the river some of the animals. The fire so be- wildered the poor things that they rushed into it as often as away from it. Surgeon Mottram aMd J. W. Nicholls, of Com- pany E, had already carried oft" all the wounded except one. They had commenced when the flames first broke out. Just as they were going back for the last man an almost solid sheet of flame burst out from the laJid side with suph scorching iTeat that no human being could pass through. The last cries of the animals were swallowed up in the last outburst of flame, which enveloped cabin, pilot-house and all, closi^ug for ever from view the unfortunate Clarabelle. The only wounded comrade left, known as the "' r- f;'^ |> " w'lic • i>e was alwav^; in thehalnt of singing, was mortally wounded, and, according to the surgeon, had only a few hours to live. But how poor this consolation was when his last piercing cry was heard— a cry which still rings in, our ears. The scene was so affecting that for a short time all the lookers on were stricken dumb. SAVED BY A GUNBOAT. A consciousness of our desperate situation soon asserted itself. Tlie Confederate battery, after continued cheering at their success, limbered up and disappeared, together with their support. The sun had sunk below the horizon and it was gradually growing darker. The officers were con- sulting as to our next movement in order, when wo heard the sound of a large cannon in the distance, and soon saw a gunboat rounding the bend. It proved to be the gunboat Louisville from Skipwitli Landing. On board this vessel we placed our sick and wounded, eight, if I remember correctly, one of whom died afterward, or on the way down. Following the advice of the officers of the gunboat, we started out soon after it was thor- ougiily dark to cross the great bend to Skipwith Landing, the nearest place at which we could get supplies or transportation. We were guided by several slaves who took tMs as the first oppor- tunity of securing their freedom. We always found the elaves true to us, although in many cases they would not do anything whicli would injure their mast-ers. Eor several hours we travelled among large- plantations, through lanes, as well as big roads,, without meeting a living tiling. We passed sev- eral fine large houses, anu stopped to get \yater at some of them, but saw no sign of life. The gardens were closely imnted for anything eat- able, becau.se we had been "without food most of the day. An occasional squawk of a chicken or squeal of a pig would strike on our ears, but it would be so suddenly cut off that we con- cluded the sound might have been imaginary. It must have been after 12 o'clock at night when we reached Skipwith Landing. We had lost everything, and an immediate reiuisition was made on the " storeship " for the necessary sup- plies. Several men from each company were de- tailed to go aboard and bring back the food. The gang plank was narrow and •^(inpery. and in- clined upward to the boat, and during the trans- fer oii^e man of Company H, John Eoberts, en- listed at New-Orleans, slipped oft" into the river and was never seen again. The. current was very swift, and we looked in vain below to see his head rise to the surface. The suddenness with which our comrade disappeared struck a chill through those who saw it, and we had to submit- to the fact that " Death comes like a thief in the night." We lay at Skipwith Landing for two days, or until the night of the 2 6th. The sun was extremely hot, and we used all manner of devices for making shade. A large plantation stretched for some distajice above and below a& well as back from the river, so that there were no trees for shade. We could not help but feel that the enemy had got the T>est of us without our being able to help ourselves, and we were anxious to get to the remainder of our ©ommand as soon as possible. Just before night on the 26th the steamboat Leviathan was signalled to stop, it being the first boat to go up the river since our misfortune. The captain of the Leviathan was informed of what had occurred, and, after consultation with the naval officers, it was deemed best for him to wait until after dark to proceed. The Leviathan was the largest boat on the river at that time, and of great speed. About dark the Pauliii:e^ Carroll, another large boat, came up, and was signalled to land. The Carroll had one wheel disabled, and had been making slow progress. After dark the two boats were lashed together, and we were taken on board the Leviathan. Be- tween nine and ten o'clock the boats backed off, and, with full head of steam, pushed forwar.d against the muddy current. The officers of the Leviathan were very kind and attentive to our wants, supplying hot coffee and plenty of food as well as comfortable quarters for sleeping. There seemed to be a quiet but settled determination to go up the river, eneray or no enemy. We were not molested. In the morning the captain ordered the clerk to give every man a sheet of paper and envelope with wliicli to write home, and my own letter lies before me as I am writing this storv giving a brief account of our disaster, dated : " St. Joseph, Ark., July 30, 1864," with the imprint on the head : " On board the St. Louis and New-Orleans Packet, iSteamer Leviathan, Captain Ambrose Eeeder."— (WUber H. Webber. TKUE STOEIES OP THE WAR FOR THE UNION. 53 THE loTH NEW-JERSEY FliEDERICKSBUEG. AT MEMORIES OF THE SECOND ASSAULT. & GALr.AXT REGIMENT, XOT A MAN OF WHOM ESCAPED WOUNDS. Biidd's Lake, N. J.— Tlio last double roll of the drums and the shrill hi<4h notes ot the fifes were le-eclioing o"ver tlie hills near the city of Fred- ^'ricksburg, Va., on or about May 1, 1863, as the anusie wheeled into line on the rig-ht of our regi- ment on dress parade. Adjutaint E. D. Halsey raised his sword precisely to shoulder and com- maniled "Attention, l.")th Jersey! Shoulder arms! Present arms!'' and turning on his lieel saluted Colonel William H. Penrose, our commander, who replied: "Read the orders, adjutant!"' After facing about, our adjutant commanded, " Attention to orders ! " "Headquarters 6th Army Corps, Army of the Potomac— Everj- regiment and .command will be ready to move at early dawn on the morrow, with sixty rounds of cartridges and three days' rations to each man. First sergeants of companies will see that each man is fully equipped and will be held strictly responsible for their men under them. " By order of John Sedgwick, major-general com- manding ; McMahon, colonel, chief -of-statf." All the other formalities of dress parade having been complied with, the regiment was sent back to quarters. The men at once began their prepara- tions, and all was soon made ready for the morrow. Tlie men gathered in groups discussing the proba- bilities of the fight. Papsi^g down the street of offi,cers I met many and saluted, and passing Captain Ira Lindsley',s fent, of Compiany C, I found him standing in front, seemingly unusually pale. I saluted and accosted. " Wliy, Captain, you look unwell! What is the matter?" The Captain replied : " Orderly, I don't feel well, but 1 am not sick. I fet^l tUJit our next fiuht will be my death, but I would not be absent if I could." " Captain, you know life is uncertain anywhere, ■especially in battle. What is the use of meeting death any soorer thin we liave to?" "I know. Sergeant, your philosophy is common #eTise. Yet I am nnalile to shake off the feeling. T tliitik I have written my last letter to my wife and little ones." " I hope you may wi'ite many and we shall see more peaceful days in our mountain homes, Cap- tain." Tlie •Captain replied : " I shall do my duty, but I have no hope!" " Well, Orderly, you are looking more solemn than usual," remarked Sergeant Larrison, of my •own company, as I walked up our own street among the bo.vs. " What is the matter ? " " Nothing, boys, serious, I trust, only I believe we will have a lively time on the other side of the Rappaiiannock before many days." Early morn came, and soon our First Brigade was down to Franklin's Crossing. The o[tposite filiore was taken by crossing ovH'r on pontoons. Some of the enemy were taken prisoners, their reserves falling back. The 1 5th N. J. was deployed on the skirmish line, and drove the Johnnies over the valle.y until we were ordered to halt for the night. About dark the rest of the eth Corps crossed the river and massed by divisions in our rear. The night was warm, dark and misty, and the enemy's sldrmishers were not more than 400 feet from us. Our line was formed by the men lying Hat on the ground, to see more readily objects approaching us. There Avere men of devotion in both armies. We could hear our comrades in tlie rear of us sing- ing "Old Hundred" and familiar church music, and praying to the God of battles for protection and success. We could hear devout pra.yers as- cending heavenward in the enemy's camp, and battle lines invoking the same God of battles for protection and success ; and as I walked my com- pany line near Sergeant Larrison, he said to me, " Orderly, this must be a very queer war, both sides are claiming God Almighty, and I reckon lie is go- ing to let us figiiit it out with the force of pluck and endurance." I said : " John, one side must be right and th© other wrong." " That's so, " says Larrison. " We know we are right, and the Johnnies have got more conceit than wisdom. I am going to see the end, and they must surrender in time." "All right," said I. "Can you see anything moving in your front?" " Not a thing. It is so dark they will all go to sleep, and I feel like it too." "No sleep to-night on this line," I enjoined and passed on. It was the sleepiest night we ever experienced in all our battles. I felt like going to sleep walk- ing, and only kept wide awake b.y rubbing my forehead with water from my canteen. Each man's head would be bobbing toward Ms rifle, which was lying ready to raise and fire, when I would hit his foot or shake him. It seemed a long niglit, but the morning of May 3, 18tt3, came, and with the glorious sun of this Sabbath day all na- ture with the song of birds seemed hapi)y. THE 6TH CGKPS CHARGES. In duo time that day the 6th Corps was deployed to charge the forts and heights around J'rederieks- burg. The advance was made slowly but surel.y. The enemy's line fell back on their lines of battle at the bavse of the heights, covered by tlie guns in the forts. The fighting became general from the city all around tlie hills. Orders were given for our whole line to charge, and v/ith resoinding cheers and baj'onets fixed, up Wf>nt the 6th Corps to the summit and over into the forts, takin" guns and prisoners. The Stars and Stripes waved where the Bars had been recently planted. The enemy retreated in liaste, but finally re- formed in the woods on the road be.yond St. Mary's Church for a further determined fight. The l36 N. J. Brigade took the lead for a farther advance, and the 1st, 2d, 3d and 4th Regimenls, havinpj left the 15t!i to be igatliered up by Colonel Pen- rose from scattered duty and follow, were soon marching at our head in orderly ci)h:mn. We jiassed the rest of our corps, halted 54 LIBRABY OF 'lEIBUXE EXTRAS. temporarily one side, and by tlie time the 1st be- came engageJ asain, the lotlx N. J. was witliin supporting distance. As our other four regiments had been brought to a halt by the force massed in front, we came upon the ground by the right and left flank move- ment, in front of the enemy's fire. Colonel Pen- rose commanded "Halt! Unsling knapsacks!"' and the order was executed promptly, while the Johnnies were looking on in amazement, \\ithout (to their honor) firing one shot at us. But when the Colonel commanded "Forward, guide centre, march I" they opened fire and gracefully dipped our Stars and Stripes toward the ground. Our brave color-sergeant, Hicks, wafi killed. OorporaH Eeobadeau caught tlie colors, and the colonel com- manded " Charge bayonets ! " On we went over fences, through the enemy's tents, they running into the woods and we after them, until we were 80 far ahead that we had to do tlie figlitinu alone. Our Colonel ordered us to " halt and commence firing." For two hours we held that ground against the combined forces of the enemy. For twj hours the peal of musketry was never better executed. BLxty rounds of cartridges liad bee"n fired by each eoldier who was still li\'ing. The cartridge-boxes of the dead were then sought and their guns and cartridges used, as many of the other guns had become fouled with powder and heated. Captain Btout, of our company, was wounded thro-jgh the right shoulder. I was struck on my right shoulder and turned to Larrison. He said, " tliere is a hole in your coat." My arm hung useless from the bruise of the spent or glancing bah. j\lany of our comrades 'iay dead, and many were wounded. To- ward the setting of tlie sun down went Larrison with the blood gusliing from his head. I looked at the wound. His skull was hurt. I raised liim up and started him to the rear. AJPTEB THE BATTLE. After sundown the colonel cajne along down the line, and said, " Boys, you have done glori- ously. Orderly, take your men and fall back slowly to the knapsacks." By this time the enemy had ceased firing, but Private Berry said he would have another shot, and I let liiin fire. The wounded of our company we carried to the rear, all except one. Felix Cash. We fell back to our knapsacks without a shot being fired after us. Each took a knapsack, but inany were left on the ground tellin^r their own eloquent story. As the remainder of the 15th New-Jei-sey about faced and marched from the field in good order, tlie little streams of water we crossed were run- ning red with blood. We halted and faced in line of battle in sup- port of the 11th Pennsylvania Bucktails, who had relieved us in the front. We called the roll. Many of our comrades did not answer to their names. They were reported "killed or missing in action." Captain Ira Lindsley had been killed. Sergeant Hicks had been l-;illed : and many others of our brave and noble-hearted men had passed the line in death— as a sacrifice for liberty^ Union and progress. Our line of 1 attle now extended from Frank- lin's Crossing to the point we had gained, and then to the upper ford of the Rappahannock.. We liad gained the point of tlie angle of the letter A. Tlic Confederates had tried to turn our left liank during the fight ; but a Union, battery had thrown them into confusion. During the hottest exchange of bullets, some daring rebel had fired two bullets near my head,. but missed me. On account of the smoke I dropped on my right knee and sighted the rascal under the smoke loading his rifle behind an old stump. I drew sight on him immediately, but could only see his right shoulder. I sent a bullet through that an.l stopped his close range firing. We had cut the rebel regiments all to pieces, as one of them afterward told me. Our wounded were well attended to by our surgeons— and volunteers carried them back so that they could be transported over the river during the night. THE SrXDAY AT HOME. Tlius did Sunday, the 3d day of May, 1863, close on the battlefield. Let us for a moment, this same Sunday, look into the homes of the- volunteers of the loth New-Jersey. In the moun- tains and the hills of tlie counties of Sus.sex, Warren. Hunterdon, Somerset and Morris, wives» motliers, sisters, betrothed and fathers, brothers and friends, had listened to many appeals to the God of battles. They thought of the absent- ones, and feared the news of battle. Many were the secret jirayers which were oft'ered that their loved soldiers would be protected from harm ; and many secret tears were shed, when to their minds the thought of battle would picture their lorms, wounded and d.ving on the field of car- nage, far from homes and lovable surroundings. The successful and careless of the world never knew the pangs of sacrifice! They never knew the forlorn pulsation of the heart of Sergeant Hicks' betrotlied when the news of his death reached her ! His last letter was so full of hope ; he would soon be promoted ; he would come home on furlough, and be married! They never knew the feeling of that fearful presentment which the wife of Captain Ira Lind- sley experienced on this Sunday, the 3d day of May, 18(^3. Hopefully had she listened to the eloquent words from Divine Writ, and when she gathered her little ones around her, all wishing- "Fa" to come home from the war, her heart sank in fearful foreboding-s. Her devout prayers relieved her heav.v lieart, and sleep, dreamy sleep, closed her weeping eyes. Language has never been able to do justice to the women, the loved ones, of our Uniorr soldiers. Their brave sacrifice more than equalled that of their brave soldiers who now sleep the- sleep of the honored dead I WE FALXi BACK. The Union forces have now changed posi'ti.rs with the Johnnies. AVe occupied the heights and their forts, and they would be forced to attack us from the valley. Tlie 4th was a beautiful day apid our 6th Corps was fuUv prepared to continue the fight of the 3d. Batteries were in position for defence. General Sedgwick had sent to G(^neral Hooker to know if he shoull hold what we had gained. General Hooker said : " No ; recross the' TRUE STOEIES OF THE WAE FOE THE UNION. 55 river." But after General Hooker had be«?u de- feated at Cliancellorsville and recrossed his forces, General Lee lost no time to try to capture his dreaded enemy, the 6tli Corps. His forces were double-quicked to our front, and soon terrible figliting became general all along our lines. Our boys held the Johnnies back until after dark. Then the men of the 6tli Corps siloflitly witlidrew to the upper ford and covered their artillery by forming a hollow square. All night our guns aJid men were engaged in crossing the rising Rappahannock, and just before daylight the 15tli New-Jersey brought up the rear of our brigade, followed by the skirmish line, and our pontoons were then taken from the river. Our regiment filed into the woods on the top of the hill, called the roll and began to put up their little 6-cent muslin shelter tents, as it was beginning to rain. Our men were very liungry, and I started to report to Adjutant Halsey to see if our commissary were near, when who should I meet riding up the road but General John Sedgwick with some of his Btaif . A young staff oflficer said : " General, here is a regiment. Shall I order it down on picket by the river?" I saluted the General, and, returning the salute, he said : " Orderly, what legiment is yours here ?" I answered : " This is the 1 5th New-Jersey, and the First New-Jersey Erigade in the rear part of our corps." The General said '• Thanli you," and, turning to his aid, said: "The Fifteenth and the First New- Jersey Brigade has been badly cut to pieces in the fight. You go and order some other regiment on picket and forward wl^at headquarters I have up here in front of this brigade." I soon found Adjutant Halsey. He had been struck by a ballet, but was still at his post. I handed him my report and inquired about hard- tack. "Well, Budd, we are all terribly hungry. We will iiave to wait." About noon some of the wagons made an ap- pearance through the mud, and cracker-boxes were carried in a hurry to the compajiies and divided up. The officers of the brigade could not get tlieir supplies, so the men of each regiment divided up and the officers enjoyed the soldiers' rations. Three days it rained in this very undesirable piece of woods, and for three days the comforts of half rations were willingly divided without a wc-rd of gi-umbling from any soldier At last the waters ceased, and once more the bright sun, sparlding on the diamond drops falling from our leafy canopy, indicated that Nature's pent up precipita- tion was temporarily relieved. The bugles sounded " Fall in," and we were mo^'ing through mud and mortar— splash, splash, splash— in continuation toward our former places of encampment below Falmouth, where we arrived about sunset. The foundations of our winter quarters were in about the same condition as before, and we filed into our company grounds, stacked arms, and after roll-call made details for guard duty and for the bringing of rations. Some of our men were so hungry tfiey ate one day's ration at one meal, with a quart of good strong coffee as liquid stimulant. XO HOSPITAL, FOK THJCM. By the time our necessary work was completed for the night some of our wounded put in an ap- pearance from Potomac Creek Hospital, Sergeant John Larriso'i with his head all bound up ; " Will" Opdyke and others. I inquired why they didn't stay at the hospital. Larrison said : " Orderly, the doctors took out a part of my skull and put some silver in ; then I told them I was going back to my company. I wouldn't stay there. I would rather fight every day." " Will" Opdyke said : " I wouldn't stay there among them with one bullet in my arm," and null- ing off his blouse a.nd shoving up his sleeve he showed where a bullet had passed through di- agonally. "Boys," I ordered, "you go with me at sick call in the morning." After the fighting and fatigue we now had a good night's rest. Reveille brought us out in the morning. I inquired for Private Benjamin Wear, and found him dead in his tent. He had attended to his duties to the last, and now had answered roll-call elsewhere. During the fight he turned to me, wounded. I pulled out of hia face a copper-like tin which had been around the pm of a bullet which had shattered the stock of his gun. He then turned to his place, and fought with us the fight out. He died from the poison of the copper, I always believed; and we buried the brave soldier with the honors of war. " Fall in for sick call !" I sang out, as the drums were beating the call ; and I led our wounded men to the regimental hospital tent, where Dr. George R. Sullivan was in readiness to examine and mark oft' from duty. He began the examinatio.'i of each. " Who sent your men back ?" demanded the doctor, in a rage. " None of you will be fit for duty in a long time." Most of the men replied : " We wouldn't stay in such a place." " Won't stay ?" said the doctor, in surprise : " I wish all the hospital soTcIiers of the Army of the Potomac had the pluete of our boys, we would have more ficrhting men and less of the Gev'eral Hospital service; many of them are just as able to fight as the best of you. They w'ill claim equal honors, though they never saw a fight. Well, I will have to mark them off from duty, orderly, and you consider them off until further orders." A FIRST SERGEANT'S DUTIES. The fighting qualities of an army depend more on First Sergeants than on Major-Genera Is, Colonel Penrose would say ; and I have often thought that Congress ought to brevet, with honorable distinction, as major-goi^erals, all the First Ser- geants who served in the War of the Great Re- bellion. Their duties are arduous and valuable. Next to duties in line, the most painful of all to any First Sergeant is to write to the friends of hia dead and missing comrades. "Tell mother, gently,, how I died. Tell myf wifJe of my love for her, even in death!" "Tell her in whisi:)ered confidence in death, as Sergeant was about to die, how I longed to live for her, and be married ! " " Tell sister I die thinking of our happy yout'.if ul days I" 56 LmEiiLEY OF teibunp: extras. '• Tell father I die with my face to the foe!" Tliose sad stories I wrote, wishing I had fallen instead of some of my comrades. The poor old mother answers with tears on her letter and wants to know, " where my boy Benny is buried ? " The loved wife writes me, " I am Itroken hearted, but J trust God will take care of me and my little ones— crying for their papa." Another expectant wife answers, " with thanks for your kind letter," stained with the watery drops from her eyes; "Oh! This cruel war!" I close the letter sorrowfully, thinking " Yes, most cruel war; but we must light it out!" FKOM REBEL PRISONS. " Well Orderly, yonder comes some of our boys from Eichmond. I wonder if the.y have had a good time down with the Johnnies.^" sings out Jack Opdyke, the happy mischief maker. Sure enough, up walked Sergeant L. H. Salmon and others y/Hxo had been taken prisoners. We wer-e all glad to see them and there was a gienerai handshaking went around. Buit Jack i\vy,s anxious to learn about Eichmond, and soon gut a word in, " Say Sergeant, how did you like Jeff Davis's hotel?" "Well Jack— boys," replied Salmon, "I like it 60 well that if they ever catch me tlj,ere again, I'll be so badly wounded that I can't fight any longer. I wiould rather nt)e shot dead than ever surrender again. I am glad to get back to you, and I will fight in Company F and the old 15t]i Jersey until the rebels all surrender." "We will all stand by you and our Orderly," the boys shouted, 'aalong as any fighting is to be done:" and they kept their word in every battle to the end. The few survivors, who were in many battles of the war, all came home v/ounded. Not one was favored.— Enos G. Budd, let Sergeant Company F., 15th New- Jersey. ♦ ■ THE 24TH ILLINOIS AT STONE ElVEE. WHAT OKE MAN SAW OF THE DISASTERS AND THE FURIOUS FIGHTING OF THAT HlSTOPaC FIELD. Lincoln. Neb.— Tlie readers of The Tribune may be interested in what came under my own personal observation during the blrody figlit of Stone Eiver battlefield. Ihe battle of Stone Eiver, Tenn.. was fought by Major-General Eosecrans, on the Union side, and by General Bragg, on the Confederate side. It took place, if my memory serves me right, on the last two days of 18G'> and the first three days of 1303. The weather was wintry and it was raining nearly all the time. Our division was commanded by General Rous- eeau, and our corp« by Major-General George H. Tliomas. The division was composed of fighters from the Western States. Our Fourteenth Corps, under the leadersliip of General Tliomas, was never whipped, and our very name carried terror to our opponents when they discovered our presence in tlieir front. Our division came from Nash- ville. When in the immediate vicinity of Stone Eiv.r, some three miles from Jlurfreesboro,. we were ordered to the left flank of the battle line, about 5even miles to the left. It appears Ironi what occurred afterward that we were expected to take care of any Confederate cavalry which might attempt to cross the ford at that point, and v.hose purpose would be to destroy our train of wagons loaded with ammunition and with auartermaster's stores, these supplies being of the utmost importance in enabling us to make a long and hard fisht. However, the rebels did not cross there, as we wanted them to do ; they crossed somewhere else. While we were eating breakfast our pickets were being driven in in our rear. We were imme- diately ordered to face about. We marched about a half mile when we found ourselves in front of a strong body of dismounted rebel cavalr.y, which we entertained in military fashion to the best of our ability. AVe were ordered to halt and be- gin firing, which we did ; and we stayed there until our friends had burned up all of our division wagon train with ammunition and sub- sistence. Then the rebels mounted and left us, whereupon we advanced. We found our trains smouldering in ashes, the mules bayonetted, and the bodies of several Confederates Lying scattered about in the vicinity. Scores of our men then came running to us through the timber, many bleeding and torn. They were utterly demoral- ized and came running from all directions, all telling the story of the disaster which had oc- curred on the riglit flank of Eosecrans's army about midnight of the preceding day. It appears that a part of Bi-eckinridge's and Folk's troops had made a detour around the right of Eosecrans's army in the night time, wMle our men were resting under their line of stacked arms ; and, coming in from the rear, they utterly routed nearly a whole division of our troops before they were stopped. They actually turned and drove back that wing of the army until it was resting on the Nash^'ille pike and in the form of a sciuare. All entreaties would not stop those panic-stricken men, who were going no one knew where. A courier then arrived and we recei\v?d orders to repair to the battlefield. We Avent on the double quick most of the way. It appears that everything was ready for our reception. When we arrived, we were ordered to "pile knapsacks." With us. all men whom we thought unwell, or who did not sometimes care about dying yet, were always placed in charge of the knapsacks. Nine times out of ten we never saw them again untU the fight vs-as well over at any rate. We made line of battle; and the gallant General Thomas came galloping down in front waving his hat. "Boys, your enemy is in your immediate front in large force! Drive them back from where they came from." Our officers ordered " Load ! " and " Forward I " In a few minutes we were beyond our pickets, and in a few minutes more we saw the magnifi- cent spectacle of a portion of the Confederate ,Ai-7uy under Bragg in line of battle, with colors flying. Perhaps they saw us, in our blue, with the colors of "Old Glory," but we were ordered TRUE STOEIES OF THE WAR FOR THE UNION. 57 to "commence firing" and "forward." Br this time several of bur batteries had opened upon the advanciusj- rebel liosts. Our cavalry and tliat of the enemy became engaged. The din and con- fusion wei-e awful. Loud orders were shouted from many officers. There were mingl(?ut Key, expecting such trouble, had procured a revolver, which one of the pilgrims had brought in in his knapsack. Key drove them off without firing a shot. This attempt on the life of Key undoubtedly precipitated an attack by the reg- ulators on the " raiders." Key issued orders that the members of all the companies should h& ready to move in the morning. Key had already informed Wirz— the commandant of the prison— of his intention. For a wonder. Wirz approved the plan, and offered him the use of the in- closure at the north gate in which to confine and try any whom he might arrest. Key also sent notice to Wirz of the time he intended to attack the "raiders," so that the commotion might not be mistaken for an attack on the stockade and cause the guards to open on the prison with gra.pe and canister. Neither the "regulators" nor "raiders" slept on the night of the 2d. Each was expecting an attack from the other, and kept watch to pre- vent a surprise. THE BTG ir.NT CAPTUBED. On the morning of the 3d the "regulators'* formed and moved 'down toward the " big tent." The "raiders" were ready and waiting, armed with slungshots, knives and clubs, while each, of the " regulators " carried a short club fastened to his wrist by a string. The struggle was terrible, but short and decisive. Within five minutes the " raiders" were defeated and scat- tered in all directions, pursued by the victorious- " regulators." During the engagement the Confederates, in accordance with their chronic fear of an out- break, had their infantry in line of battle, ari'd their cannon shotted and trained on the camp, while the artillerists, with the lanyards in their hands, were read.v to mow down the defenceless prisoners at a moment's notice. With the defeat of the " raiders " the " reg- ulators'" seemed satisfied for the day and deferred making any arrests until another day. In the early morning bands of men, with short billies tied to their wrists, could be seen march- ing through the prison in all direetrons, hunting up and arresting the most prominent of tlie "raiders." Many of the criminals made fierce re- sistance, but the result of tlie battle the day before had destroyed their confidence and de- prived them of much of their support. The in- terest in the arrests increased until it ran into the wUdesi excitement. The tents of the «2 LIBE^iEY OF TRIBOTE EXTRAS. ^' raiders" were torn doAvn and pillaged of the fruits of their many nightly forays. A large number of watches, chains, knives, etc., were found buried beneath their tents. It was said, too, that skeletons of several of their victims were found buried there also. By night of July 4 Key had 125 of the most noted of the offenders arrested and conilned in the inclosiire at the north gate. For their trial he organized a court-martial consisting of thirteen sergeants, taken from the late arrivals, in order that they might not be prejudiced against the raiders. The trial was fairly and honestly con- ducted, with all the formality which could be remembered, and the " raiders" were allowed counsel and the privilege of cross-examining wit- nesses untU satisfied. iST3XTEXCE PROXOIJJfCET). The trial lasted several days, and resulted in sentencing a large number to run the gantlet, a few to wear balls and chains, and sLx; to be hanged. These six were John Sarsfield, 154th >.>w-Y'ork ; William Collins, 88th Pennsylvania: Charles Curtis, 5th Ehode Island Battery : Patrick Delany, 83d Pennsylvania ; A. Muir, United States ^■avy, and Terrence Sullivan, 72d New-York. 'I'hose sentenced to ball and chain were brought in and had the irons fitted to them. As Wirz refused to guard any more except those sentenced to death, the remainder were sent in and obliged to run the gantlet. The punish- ment was terrible. As they ran with all their strength on being forced through the gate one at a time. between the two rows of men, blows from clubs and fists rained on them thick and fast. Three were killed outright, and all were terribly bruised. Many of the men who composed the gantlet were men whom the " raiders" had robbed and maltreated, and who considered this their only change to get even with them. SIX MEN" EXECUTED. ' It was not generally known by the prison- ers when and where those condemned to death would be executed, but on the morning of the 11th of July the carpenters detailed for the pur- pose began the building of a rude scaffold near the south gate. It was a rude structure. A Tieam was fastened to the top of two posts about fifteen feet long, about six from the ground. Two boards were stretched, across from one post to the other, and met at the centre. The ends at the po.«t8 rested on cleats, the ends at the centre rested on a couple of barrels, standing up- right, and each having a rope fastened through a hole so that a man could jerk it from under thei platform and let the whole thing drop. A ladder by which to ascend the scaffold completed the whole outfit. As the time approached for the execution the excitement both inside and outside the prison was Intense. The prisoners gathered in a dense crowd as close as possible to the scaffold, wliile outside the infantry guards were drawn up in line ready for action, and the artillerists stood ready at their trained and shotted pieces to firo •at the command. Key had formed nis " regu- lators" in a hollow square around the scaffold, and took his position inside with the six men who were to act as hangmen. A little after noon the south gate opened, and Wirz rode in on his 5Shite horse. Behind him walked an old priest reading the service for the condemned. The six doomed men followed, between double ranks of guards. As soon as they came inside the hollow square Wirz said : " Brisoners, I return to you deee men so goot as I got dem. You have tried dem and found dem guilty. I haf had noting to do wid it. I vash mine hands of eberyting connected wid it. Do wid dem as you like, and may Got haf mercy on you and on dem ' Garts, about face ! Vorwarts, march 1 " With this he marched out and left us. For a moment the condemned men looked dazed. They seemed to realize for the first time that the " regulators" were in terrible earnest. They had evidently thought all along that the talk of hanging was mere bluff. One of them exclaimed : "My God! men, you don't really mean to hang us up there ? " "That's about the size of it," said Key. At this they all burst out in protestations and intercessions, mixed Avith imprecations, untili one of them said: "All stop now, and let the priest talk for us." At this the priest closed the book, which he had constantly read since entering the gate, and, turning to tlie crowd, commenced an earnest plea for mercy. As soon as the crowd caught the first few words, and realized their import, they began to shout : " No ! No ! No ! " " Hang them ! Hang them ! " " Never let them go !" " Hang them ! " etc. Then Curtis, a low, heavy-set, powerfully built man, seeing the hopelessness of the case, exclaimed : "By G— , I say die this way first!" Lowering his head he made a dash through the line of '"regulators" on the east side of the square like a great cannon ball. Delaney, a great, brawny Irishman, started to follow, but Limber Jim strode in front of him, and with a big upraised bowie knife said : " You dare to move another step and I'll open you from one end to the other." Delaney stopped, and this checked the others, until the "regulators" again got their lines formed. Wirz, seeing the panic and fearing the dreaded outbreak had begun, ran down from the head- ciuarter steps to the captain of tihe battery, shriek- ing, "Fire!" "lire!" ''Fire!" But the captain could see that the rush was away from and not toward the stockade. So he did not fire. The crowd of citizens, men, women and even children, who had pushed up directly in front of the artillery outside of the stockade to secure a good view of the scaffold, hearing the order of "^irz to " fire," and knowing themselves to be directly in range, were panic stricken, and ran screaming and tumbling over each other in their wild haste to get out of danger. During all tliis confusion two of the "regu- lators" were in "hot pursuit of Curtis, who had run down to the swamp. He plunged in and forced his way through, although he sank in to liis hips, coming out covered with the slimy ooze. Here the "regulators" came up with him, knocked TEUE STOI^IETS OF THE WAR FOE THE UXIOX. 63 bim. down with their chxbs, and in a^ few minutes started back toward tlie scaft'okl. In the mean time Key ordered the otlier con- •demned men upon tlie scairohl. Tlie nooses were adjusted to tlieir necks by the men appointed as liangmen, and tliere they stood for fullj- ten minutes in full view of the men who were slowly marching back with Curtis. When the latter finally arrived Curtis was al- lowed to sit down on the ground a few minutes to rest and was then Helped up the steins to his place on the scaftold. Ml this time the priest continued to read the service for the dying, to ■which Delaney gave little heed. Delaney seemed to think Curtis was sulfering more from fright than anything else aud advised him to " stand up like a man and die game," and he kept calling out to his friends, making dispositions of diilerent articles of his stolen property, telling one to take Ills watch to his mother in New- York, and other articles he distributed among his friends in the prison. The priest admonished him to turn his attention from things of this earth to those of heaven. The whole six then began to talk, saying tlieir farewells and sending messages to their friends. Key took out his watch and said : " Two min- utes more to talk" " Well, goodby, byes, " said Delaney. " If oi've hurted ony of yez, I hope yez'll forgive me. Shpake up now ! " But no one seemed to be in a forgiving mood. " Time is up, " said Key, and lie raised his hand as a tignal. The two men who were to •pull the supports from the trap laid hold of the ropes. The hangmen pulled a meal sack down over the head of each of the condemned men, tightened the nooses and sprang to the ground, the priest all the time praj-ing aloud. Key dropped his hand. Ihe men with the ropes snatched the upright supports from under the scaffold and five of the condemned men were swung into eternity. Mosby, a large, heavy man, broke his rope and fell to the ground in a heap. The meal sack was instantly removed from liis face, the rope was cut off his neck and he was found to be still alive. In a few minutes consciousness returned, and he gasped out: "Where am T? Am I in eternity?" Limber Jim, whose brother he was said to have killed, Baid, " We'll soon show you where you are," and began to fix up the scaffold. Mosby soon realized the situation and divined that he would be shown no mercy. He began begging piteously for Ms life, but without avail. The scaffold was soon adjusted, and he was carried up, a new rope noosed about his neck and the scaffold kicked from under him. As soon as the six men were known to be dead the bodies were cut down, the meal sacks were removed from tlieir faces and the prisoners were allowed to file through between two rows of ■"regulators" and view the bodies. ORDER RESTORED. It was altogether a terrible proceeding t but it «eenied to be the only way in Which to break the dreadful reign of terror. It had a most salutary effect. A police force was organized ; rules and regulations were adopted and enforced, and the prison became as orderly as the same number of men could have been under even more favorable circumstances. Key, Limber Jim and others prominently con- nected with the hanging, knowing they would be in danger of assassination by the friends of tlie raiders, secured details outside the prisons. Tills account is written from memory except as to some of the naines, 'wliioh I had forgotten and have taken from history. The impression made on the prisoners by the awful scene was so vivid tliat the memory needs httle refresliing, even after the lapse of more than a quarter of a century.(-Ed. P. Snyder, Co. E., 123d O. V. I. TI/EIB HAIR STOOD ON FND, THE GHOST OF VALLEY EL'N. IT FROZE THE MARROW IN THE BOXES OF THE PICKET POST, BUT THE CAPTAIX BAGGED HIM AT LAST. Washington, D. C— Valley Run, a rollicking, merry lit+le river, flowed down a valley on its way to the Tennessee, a few miles north of Chattanooga. Another little stream, known as Pelible Run, joined its waters from another val- ley, or cove, of the Cumberland Mountains, and on the point between the two streams at the place where tliey joined were the farmhouse and build- ings of "Old John Bacon," as he was known and called in all the country about. Old John was a stanch Union man. His two boys and his only daughter were in strong: sympathy with the South. Old John said all he could to dissuade his sons from going into the Confederate service, but go they would, joining the 1st Tennessee Cavalry, and leaving Old John and his wife and daugliter Margaret broken- hearted. Old John swore to his heart's content, but the mother and daughter prayed for the boys. Tliere were a few slaves upon tlie farm, and with their help the old man tried to plant and harvest the crops. Time went on until the winter of 1863 and 1864. The grand army of Sherman's was then en- camped about Chattanooga, the Confederate forces being about Dalton, thirty miles south. Thou- sands of men from the latter army took ad- vantage of the time to visit their relatives and homes in the country under the control of the Union forces. The highways of most of the val- leys led to a main road at Old John's farm, and thence through a gap in the mountains into the valley of the Tennessee River. It was quite an important point, and was well picketed, and nearly every day some one (sometimes more), poor homesick Johnnie was intercepted on his way home to visit his people, and sent as prisoner to Chattanooga. Company L, of our regiment, was stationed there, and built little huts in the wooda for both men and horses. Old John's house was across the yalley half a mile or so. He was sick in bed nearly aU the winter. Margaret was a handsome mountain beauty. Being of an independent disposition, she went to Chattanooga quite often after medi- cines and other necessaries, such as tobacco and coffee, always riding an old gray horse, which was the only means of transportation left on the farm. He was spared by reason of being so ugly and vicious that no soldier had the courage to go within kicking distance of him. He was the ugliest and the worst biting, striking, kicking brute I ever saw ; but Margaret could do all she pleased with him in perfect safety, the two hav- ing grown up boon companions on the farm. Captain Jack Smith, commanding Company L^ said to her one day : " Are you not afraid to go 64 LtBRAEY OF lEliiLNE EXTKAS. to Chattanooga aloue so often ? Are 5'ou not afraid of the soldiers?" "Oh, no indeed," ahe said, "the soldiers only stare at me. Some lift theii- hats ; and what do you think, Captain, one of your men said to me this morning 'Howdy, sis, how will you swap horses?' and another one asked, ' Don't you want an or- derly to follow on beliind ?' Oh, no. Captain, I ain't afraid. The soldiers are gentlemen ; they will not harm mel; and if they tried to I would give old WTiitey the whip. He would carry me safely home. He can outrun anything in your regiment and not half try." " Well," said Captain Smith, " let me know if any of the fellows trouble you, and I will attend to their cases." One day Captain Smith learned from head- quarters that there were spies somewhere in the army. fThe men were cautioned to be on the alert. In some places the pickets were doubled and a new post established on the Valley Euu road, a mile north of Okl John's house. Three men iwere stationed there, and they buUt a small shelter a short distance away from the road in the woods, one man being on duty at the road all the time, the other two remaining in bivouac snugly sheltered from the storms. SWISH. SWISH. The first night after tliis post was established Tom Jones, an old veteran of two years' service on many a lonely picket guard, said he would take the first trick and come in at 12 o'clock. Bill Carter could taJie the next turn, and Dan Hays the third. So Tom, with his overcoat buttoned up to his chin, his carbine in hand, left the bivouac, leading his horse down through the woods to the place selected by the captain. Placing his horse in a sheltered spot close by, he lighted his old cob pipe and sat down with his back to a tree to watch and listen, his head well covered up in his great-coat cape. How long he sat there he did not know. He was aroused by the low whimiy of his horse. Springing to his feet, he strained both eyes and ears for sight and sound, moving meajiiwhUe to his faithful mare, which had been much the better guard of the two. The wind was sighing through the bare limbs of the trees, the dead leaves rustled over the frozen ground and sought a resting place in the nooks midst the rocks on the mountain side. But there was no sou^nd audible made by any human being, save the throbbing of his own heart. Suddenly there was the whirr of an owl as it flashed through the shadow of the woods coming up from Valley Eun. Tom had a glimpse of the bird's broad wings as it flitted past. Alight- ing on a limb close by, it gave a screech which lifted Tom oif the ground. He dropped his car- bine by his side, and then wanted to be kicked for a coward, as a man who could be frightened by an owl. Just then his horse gave another low call, as if she scented a friend. "What is it, old chum?" he whispered to his faithful animal, who could only reply by the movement of her sensitive ears. Tom moved down the path a few steps, but no sounds came to his ears except the ripple of the .water of Valley Eun over its gravelly bed. Yes, there was a sound ! Swish, swish, it came faintly on tlie air ; but from where ? It seemed to come fioni the run, then the treetops, then from the- hillside, and again it seemed almost at his feet. •'Swish, swish,'' "Swish, swish," it came. HOO-HOO, HA-HA! Crouching at the foot of the tree on one knee, his carbine ready, he listened to the sound, unable to locate it. " Hoo-hoo ' ha-ha ! " screeched the owl, almost over his head, causing him to jump to liis feet. Back from the opposite hill came the hideous laudi of the owl's mate. The weird sounds sent cold shivers up and down Tom's back. Tlien through the stillness again came the " Swish, swish, " echoing first here and then some- where else. The moon was coming up over the opposite ridge, casting ccld kisses at the sparkling waters of the brook. Dancing shadows along the hillside seemed to take on shapes which moved along the road, dodging in and out of the woods. Bits of rotten wood about the forest gave ou1> phosphorescent fire, like phantom eyes which winked and stared until one's face was turned away. Turn which way he would, Tom could hear the "Swish, swish" which sent the blood tingling through his face, and cokl chills up and down his back. Suddenly, dropping on one knee, he raised his carbine to fire. Slowly it was recovered, the hammer lowered to its place. The blood was frozen in his veins. The carbine fell from his hands to the ground, and, Avith eyes straining out of their sockets, he bounded away up the hill- side, over the low ridge into the arms of his comrades, who, disturbed by the owls and hear- ing Tom's approach over the rough ground, were ready to fight or run, as circumstances might dic- tate. "Oh, boys! I have seen a ghost; the most frightful thing! Death on a white horse. Oht I know I am going to be killed, boys. It is a warning sent to me, I laiow; just a white horse. It did not walk, it floated through the air. It was without rider, and I could see right through it as it moved along. Oh, boysl it was terrible 1" And Tom hid his face in his hands. "Wliy didn't you shoot, Tom?" asked Dan. "Oh, I tried to, but didn't have strength. I tried to pull, but it would not go, and I dropped my gun and came in." " I should say you did come in," exclaimed BllL " Come on, we will go with you and get your horse and carbine, if the ghost has not taikeu them along." Tom had been in many battles, and his comrades knew he was no coward, but there is something in the darkness of the night, the rustling of the leaves, the chirping: of the night birds, the shad- ows dancing on the limbs, whicli makes men hesi- tate to be alone. The three men crouched about the foot of a great oak tree until it became light in the morn- ing. Then they searched the road for signs of the horse, but found none. ALL ON DUTT AT ONCE. The next night Dan Hays was on post. Bill and Tom near by sleeping in their blankets. Dan was TRUE STORIES OF THE WAR FOR TPIE UNION. 65 usually a cool-headed chap, But ho was sleepy, and his eyes were getting heavj- as he stood leaning agaiiist a tree. Suddenly he started. TIio wiuws sighed through the oaks, rustling the dry leaves, but there was something else. Wliere was it ? "Swish, swish," "Swisli, swish." Down on the main road ? No ! Up in the trees on the hill- side? No. Where was it? What was it ? Dan could not tell. Again the owls came sailing up from the run, flitting silently through the tre;'.s. Their hideous war cries, hoots of derision and laughter brouglTt the two sleeping soldiers t) their feet, muttering curses in harmony with the owls. Tlie light of the moon was just peeping over the ridge. "Swish, swish," "Swish, swish," came the sounds, which now seemed to be on the road, yet not on tlie road. But in the air there was something more than gleams of moonlight. To Dan's eyes it quickly assumed the shape of a horse, twice life-size. It seemed to float in the air, riderless, giving out no sound but a "swish-swish," the said sighing of the spirits of tlie wtjocl. The svaters of Valley Run were in deep shadow, whis- pering, laughing, sighing to the spkits in the air. The three guardsmen, speechless, remained glued to the spot, while the wliite horse of death floated away, leaving no sound but the sigliing of the trees, tiie murmurs of the waters Crouched upon the ground near the base of the oak, tJiej^ again waited for morning light. CAPTAIN SMITH HEARS IT. Captain Smith was then let into their confi- i3ence and was requested to stay with them, on the post the next night. He laugliingiy agreed to this jlan. The night was dark and rainy. Tlie cap- tain and Tom sat by the post, under the protec- ;ion of tlie oak, and there came again tiie myste- rious sounds. The darkness was intense. One 3ould not see his band before him; and yet there was the ghostly noise, first in the treetops, then up the hillside. The two men sat motionless, and in a few minutes there was no other sound besides the raindrops pattering on the ground. Tliere was tio sleep that night, but, going away from the road 1 distance in the woods, a fire was built to charm iway the " lonesome of the night. " The next day the company lieard of the matter lomehow, and ghost stories were the rage, every nan having one or more to tell. The captain had fallen into the habit of going over to old John's jvery day upon one excuse and another, but gen- erally " to see tlie eld man, " who was very sick. Margaret was getting ready to go to Chattanooga, md he said he would go Avith her and get the mail for the company, and they went aWay together, joming back just before night. Miss Margaret svent to the stable and put out her own ugly brute )f a horse. The captain, going into the house, waited for the mother to prepare supper, wliich was soon ready. Then, going back to the camp with the company mail, he joined the outpost at Valley Run. "Now. boys." ordered the captain, "there must be no shooting to-night. If any one must fire his jun I will be the one. You, Tom. stay here on the trail. BUI will go up the valley a few rods, and Dan down on the main road." "BANG, BANG." Thus posted, the captain himself went down the run toward eld John's, where he found a view of the run up and down for several rods. The rip- pling of the waters was the only sound for hours. Then the chatter of the owls began, first low laughs, swelling into hoots and wails. From their nesting-places along the run they seemed to dis- pute the right of man or spirit of the night. Dan was first to be startled. An owi sat in a tree over his head and mingled liis screechts with the moaning of the trees, Then to his ears came the other sound, the "Swish. SAvish." The woods seemed filled with invisible spirits. It \ta5 too much for his nerves, and he forgot even his com- rades, starting down the trail toward the camp two miles away. The owls hooted and seemed to laugh in derision. He gave fuU play to liis legs. " Hoo, hoo I ha, ha," the owls called after him, freezing the marrow in his bones. Bill and Tom hugged close to the tree, seeking its shelter as if from leaden hail in the field of battle. Captain Smitli, close down by the rippling waters, was startled, between the screeching of the owls, by the sounds which had so alarmed Ids men. "Swish, swish," around a bend of the run came the sounds, not on the road, but in the water. It was the " White Horse of Death. " The water sparkled in the moonlight as the horse moved al- most noiselessly along. It was a moment of fright for the captain, the cold chills chasing the blood out of his body. But quickly gaining his senses, he challenged, "Halt, there!'' The ghostly horse stopped for an instant only, then sprang out of the stream and up the hillside. Cap- tain Smith again cried "Halt!" and his carbine flashed. Almost at the same time with the echo of his carbine there came screams of terror from the direction the horse had taken. Tom and Bill had caught sight of the ghost as it sprang away from the water. The captain fired once, twice, three times; and each time the flashes of the gun mingled with the cries of the ghost as it disap- peared up the hillside. The captain jumped in the water knee deep and hurriedly followed across and up through the 'woods. Tom and Bill ran to tlie captain's assistance. They searched up and down the banlcs for an hour. Then, with a feel- ing of t<^rror at the disappearance of the captain, they, too, started for the camp, which was eoon as badly alarmed as themselves. The captain went out of hearing over the hills, guided for a time by the clatter of horse's hoofs en the loose stones, and then all was still. Tlie moon was high as he sat down upon a stone to rest, the perspiration running off his face in big drops. All around lum as far as he cauld see was thick woods. His face and hands were bleeding from the tumbles he had received. His ears heard no sound but the thumping of his o'wn heart. After regainiiig his breath he set out again, moving slowly .about, calling his companions but receiving no reply. He scraped piles of leaves together and built small fires and moved from point to point about the hills all night, lost in the woods. Daylight came at last to show him tlie way. He followed the run down to the point of the ad- 66 LIBRAE Y OF TRIBUNE EXTIL4S. venture the night before, and there found a horse"8 tracks leaving the bed of the stream. Ife followed the trail easily, in the light of the morning, and a half mile or so away from the water lie found dead the ghost, Margaret's old white horse, sad- dled and bridled, and a pair of great leather sad- dle-bags, fiUed with bread, cooked meats, tea, salt and sugar. The old horse with a bullet through Lis neck had, in his last moments, fallen on his eide upon the rocks. Captain Smith h^d eeen those saddle-bags before and all the outfit ; and it •was for the owner of them that he wandered about the woods for a time. BREAKFAST AT OLD JOHN-S. Then, going back to the dead animal, he pulled ©ft the saddle, bridle and saddlc-bags. With the outfit on his back, and hungrily munching the meat and bread found in the bags, he started down the hill to old John's house in the valley, keeping out of sight of Ms men who were up the valley looking for him. He went to the house by the back way. Throwing the saddle and bridle down on the porch, he entered and found the old mother cooking breakfast. She scarcely looked up from her worlv. Captain Smith inquired : " Mother, where is Margaret this morning ? " "She ain't up yet," said the mother. " Go and tell her that I liave come to breakfast with j'ou, and I cannot stay long." In a short time Margaret came into the dining- foom. There was coffee, bacon and hot corn pone upon the table. She cast only a glance at the eaptain; but he had such a comical look on his face, as he extended his hand, that she could not deny his greeting. Her eyes were red, her face ehapped and blistered by the wind, her hands scratched and almost bleeding. "Margaret, hovv did you get home? Why did you run away from me last night?" Their eyes met— his in pity and admiration, hers in resen1;ment. " Captain Smith, you have my brothers' break- fast in those saddle-bags. They Avill go hungry to- day." "Yes, Margaret, and I was obliged to kill the ghost of Valley Eun to get it. I am sorry I had to do that. I was not sure it was you until I fired. The old white ghost has fmislied carrying rations. I will have to get you a better one ; but, Margaret, I want those letters and papers you have, the ones you brought from Chattanooga yester- day. Give them to me quick, then we will sit down to breakfast before everything is cold. I don't like cold corn pone." "They are in the saddle-bags. Captain: take them out yourself. I won't touch them; but you are an awful mean wretch, and I don't like you. Just think of mv brothers, how hungry they will be to-day, waiting for me I They will get even with you for this." Captain Smith seated her at the table, placed a ehair for himself at her side, rapidly devoured the corn pone and bacon. Then, taking the papers out of the saddle-bags, putting them in his inside pocket, he gave Margaret's hand a little squeeze, put his arms around the mother aod kissed her on the cheek, and ran out of the house. And this is all I know of the ghost of Valley Eun.— (Charles E. Belknap. WHERE BULLETS FLEW THICK THE lOTH ILLINOIS AT KENESAW. A LUCKY REGIMEN^T WHICH. HOWEVER. IX A LATER FIGHT LOST MORE MEN THAN IN THE REST OF ITS THREE YEARS' SERVICE. Springfield, 111., July 30.-The campaign wliich beoan on the 1st of May. 1864, at Chattanooga and ended on the 1st of September in the crush- ing of Hood's lines at Jonesboro, thereby forc- ing the fall of Atlanta, was one long, steady struggle between two powerful contestants in the game of war. There was not a day during those four months when the Union troops were out of reach of the enemy's guns. Not an hour passed wliich was not marked by the booming of artillery somewhere on the lines. To us " dough-boys," who wore light-blue slioulder-straps and chevrons, and were our own pack-horses, the constant marching off to the flanlc or front, and skirmishing into position, only to abandon the position and go flanking again, became a weari- some iteration. The Eebel commander kept "drawing us on" and "getting us where he wanted us" so long, that we came to think him a very difficult man to please. Our marching and flanking, however, were not always accomplished at the route step and with arms at ease. Many a brilliant episode, many a spirited struggle for position marked the cam- paign, and no instance of this is more deeply impressed on my memory Ihan the fierce, though fruitless, fight at the base of Kenesaw Mountain, June 27, 1864. On the 19 th of June our division had worked its way by inches up to the foot of the mountain, and it lay there until the night of the 25th. It held the apex of the Union lines, and waa the hinge upon which the army on each side waa swinging forward. During all that interval the artillery of both sides was throwing shot and shell over our heads. We were so olose to the mountain that very few of the Eebel sheUs came into our camp; the guns could not be depressed enough to bear on us. I remember hearing a Vag say that the " ex-pression of those guns waa very threatening, but that the de-pression was not sufficient to make much of an im-pression on us." Even in the hour of peril men will trifle with the English language. Our own artil- lery practice was magnificent. The 5th Wis- consin and Barnett's (Ulinois) batteries woke the Eebel cannoneers to a very lively sense of their marksmanship. Nearly every shot was sent directly into the embrasures on the summit of the mountain. Amid the noise which attended this inter- change of compliments we "dough-boys" found that life had no charms for us. The thunder of the cannon, "Startling pale midnight on her starry throne," prevented us from sleeping. Tlie sharpshooters on the side of the mountain annoyed us so that we could not walk about comfortably, and the tkup: stories of the war for the LTS'IOX. 67 •only safe way of going to dinner was to seize a hardtack and a cup of coffee in the shelter of the trenches, or beliind the largest trees we could find. Even then we were not perfectly secure, lor many of our men were wounded by the premature explosion of shells from our own bat- teries behind us. Under these circumstances we were glad when, on the afternoon of the 25th, we received orders to move at dark. At dark we were ready and in line, but no troops came to relieve us. We stacked arms and gathered in little groups, discussing the movement and uttering prophecies as to our destination. We had learned, however, to put our trust in no man's vaticination. Anyl)ody can prophesy just as anybody can give a prom- issory note, lipwever poor lie may be. We therefore possessed our souls in patience, in full faith that old Tecumseh's head was level and that he would bring us out aU right in the end. Fiually, at about 10 o'clock, a bewildered colonel and adjutant, who had been wandering in the ^voods for three hours with their regiment, found and relieved us; and we moved out to the right. Tliere must have been a Ijad kink somewhere in the lines, for, after a little languid marcliing and a great deal of vigorous halting, dawn found us still under the shadow of Kenesaw, which lay silent, like a sleeping giant, giving no sign of its hidden powers. At sunrise vve started again, and at 7 o'clock halted in rear of the Fourth Corps. We passed the day there. This was almost the first day during the campaign which we had spent without hearing the vicious whistle of minie-balls about our heads. It was Sunday, and we observed it by personal purification, by putting on clean shirts (those of us who had themj, and by recovering the sleep lost the night before. Wliile we were sleeping, the wearers of the "stars" were a waive ami busy. Plans were being discussed and preparations were being made for an assault upon the lines running from Kenesaw to Marietta, On the morning of the 27th the ar- rangements were completed, and we marched out, all unconscious of the terrible fight which was impending. THE ASSAULT. JuBt before we started, General Davis, our Division Commander, said to General Morgan, who commanded our brigade: "I have been thinking tliis matter over during the night. I had intended, as you know, to put your brigade in the advance to-day. But we may fail to! carry those works; and if we do, I am afraid that the enemy will assault us in return. I want a steady, well-disciplined brigade in our own works-one that wiU hold them at all hazards I will put yours there. You will reheve General SUnley's troops." So the thought of one man clianged the fate of a thousand. In obedience to these orders, we moved out to relieve a brigade of the Fourth Corps. " Colonel, you will move your regiment right over there as fast as you can," said the A. A. G. pointing toward one of the numerous "hog-backs" into which the surface of the ground was broken. Now the A. A. G. evidently had not been " right over there, " or he would not have hurried us along so heedlessly. For on reaching the crest, or vertebra, of the "hog-tiack" we found ourselves witliin pistol-shot, and in plain view of the rebel lines. Had not the men in the trenches begun firing so rapidly as to keep the rebels down btliind their breastworks, our brigade would have suffered seveiely. At length, however, we readied our position in line, relieved the troops there, and waited for the assault to begin. Hours passed by, and we were beginning to think that it had been postponed, when the signal was sounded from a battery on our left. We then saw the gleaming lines of McCook's and Harmon's brigades, regimental front, with flags flying, rise over the crest of a hill in our rear. They lassed over our works, went down into a ravine, crossed a little ridge beyond, and the dreadful clamor of battle began. The batteries thundered peal upon peal. Shells were bursting and their fragments humming over our heads. Shrapnel and grape came crashing tlirough Ihe trees. Under the louder din of tlie artillery, the musketry firing sounded like the rapid popping of corn ; and over all could be heard that infernal rebel yell, which showed that the enemy had not yet been driven back. Would they hold their position ? ilust our brave boys go down into tiiat vortex of destruc- tion in vain? Can we hold our own lines if tTie rebels force our comrades back and attack us ? These were the thoughts which occupied our minds as we lay tliere and listened. Waiting before going into action is terrible, but not more so than the suspense of waiting in reserve, with our friends m front already engaged, and we ignorant of how it fares with them, or how soon we may be needed to retrieve what they are forced to lose. Presently the wounded began to come back, some still clinaing to their guns and roundly cursing their ill luck; others without guns or hats, bewLLdered, fliglity and scared. Then came the "demoralized," whose regiments had been all cut to pieces, officers all killed, etc. Then the firing ceased, except a scattering fire of musketry. The ragged yell of the rebels again rose, telling us that the assault had failed. But the enemy did not return the assault, and our men did not fall back, although they had been repulsed. With dogged tenacity they held the ground they had gained, and, under the very noses of the rebels, with no better entrencliing tools than their tin cups and plates, had begun throwing up a line of breastworks. The afternoon wore away, marked only by picket firing and an occasional outburst from the batteries. The long June day, a day which had lighted many a brave soul down to tho dark valley, drew to a close. The sun went down in a splendor of crimson and gold ; the moon shone out, softening with her mild light the sharp lines of agony on the faces of the dead and wounded who yet lay on the field. With the darkness the stretcher-bearers came. All night long they tramped to and fro, bearing tlieir burdens of maimed and helpless humanity. (i8 LIBRAEY OF TEI13UNE EXTKAS. A TRUCE FOR ONE DAT. Next day there Avas a truce, to allow tlie dead to be buried, aud I went out to tlie front line. As I appjoaohed it T ceased to wonder that our men had failed to carry the enemy's works. The ground was broken into ridges, in going over wliich the integrity of the assaulting column had necessarily beeii destroyed to some extent. The whole lield was exposed to a murderous eulilading fue from batteries on either side, and the heavy earthworks in front were protected by huge headlogs, a chevaux-dc-frise, a dense abatis and an intricate trap of telegraph wire. Tliese were the insurmountable difficulties that our troops had encountered. That they had held their ground and succ*^eded in throwing up eaith- works at aU under such disadA^antages seemed a miracle. Our Avorking parties were burying the dead just where they fell in the narrow space between the lines, which were perhaps tAventy paces apart. A few feet in front of our Avorks Avas a line of sentinels, facing inward, placed there to keep unauthorized men from crossing over. The rebels had a similar line facing toward their works. Under a tree sat a group of Union and rebel officers, each party scrupulously looking toward its own lines, engaged in friendly con- verse, and occasionally refreshing themselA-es with a friendly drink. There, close to the rebel works, the gallant Colonel Harmon had been killed at the l^ead of his brigade. Here the brave, bluff Dan McCook receiA^ed the wound which won him the stars he did not live to wear. Further to the left Avas where liarkcr, dauntless but ra«h, fell dead from his horse. Spurning friendly counsel and courting death, he Avas persistent in riding into action in full uniform. At 2 o'clock, the dead liaA-ing been hurriedly buried, unknelled and uneoffined, the space be- tween the lines was cleared, the white emblem of truce was lov.-ered, aud the usual scattering fire was resumed by the pickets. At the same time that DaA-^is's division had as- saulted the enemy in our front attacks had been made by troops from the Fourth and tlie FiTteehTli corps on our left. All were alike unsuccessful. Of course the failure excited a great deal of spec- ulation and "I-told-you-so" comment and ex post facto prophecy. Acc-jrding to the " special cor- respondent, '' this regiment broke, and that brigade lagged ; tliis general was drunk, and that one was coward];^' : but those of us who were there have an uneasy impression that the rebels and their cannon had_s.ometliing to do with the repulse. On the 3d of July we marched unmolested over the ground of that fearful and fruitless struggle. Ken- esaw and Marietta had been flanked. IXSTANCES OF LUCK. General DaAds's change of mind mentioned above, by Avhich the brigad'* to Avhich our regi- ment belonged Avas placed in reserA-e instead of in front, is an illustration of the way luck, good or bad, seemed to attend an organization, as well as an individual, during the war. The luck of our regiment was good. It Avas a strong regiment, .well officered, well disciplined and unusually profi- cient in drill. It was often on the front line ; but the storm aud stress of battle nearly alwaj's struck on one side or the other of it. Tlie first time we Avere under fire was at Now-Madrid, Mo., March 12, 18ti2. The night we, in conjunction with the- IGth Illinois, drove in the rebel pickets without firhig a gun, established a line 800 yards from. Fort Thompson, on the Alississippi, thrcAv up earth- works for two siege batteries and connected them, with a trench. ^11 the next day Ave lay there under the fire of the fort, and, I believe, fiA-e gun- boats, almost wiMiout casualtj,, while the troops supporting us in our rear suffered scA'erely. Another case of luck : In the scattering of the army foUoAving the evacuation of Corinth we were shifted about and finally sent to Xasli- \-ille, where Ave remained, cut oft from the i^est of the world, during Bragg's campaign in Ken- tucky. When our trcoiis came hsAik, after Bragg's retreat, our brigade was sent out fifteen miles on outpost duty. It Avas whUe Ave were here that General Eosecrans came to Nashville and began reorganizing his ai-my. The story told at the- time was that his generals bothered the life out of him trying to get their particular troop* assigned to the Nashville garrison, and that finally "Old Eosey" lost patience, and exclaimed; "By , I'll settle this thing right now. I'll send for old Morgan. He is iUe only brigadier in the army that has not asked for the place." "Whether the story is true or not, tAvo things certainly axe true: First, "Old Morgan" never asked for tlie place, not being "built that Avay." Second, he Avas sent for and his brigade assigned to the garrison &t NashA-ille. This kept us out of the great liattlts of Stone's EiA-er and Cliicka- mauga, and AA-e did not reach the front agaia until the battle at JMissionary Eidge, and even then we AAere held in reserve, and met AAlth no loss. With one more illustration of luck, I AviLl close. During the Atlanta campaign our i-egi- ment was transferred from the Fourteenth to the Sixiteenth Corps, exchanging r laces with the 17 th New-York. By reason of this change we had no part in the charge made by the Fourteenth Corps at Janesboro, Avhioh Avound up that campaign, and in Avludi our substitute in the old brigade, the IGth New-lork, was handled very roughly. My OAvn connection Avith the loth Illinois ceased soon after the fall of AtJanta, but the records show that i;i the last fight in AA'hich it was engaged, the battle of Bentonville, it lost more men in killed and wounded than in all the rest of its tliree years' term of serAdce.— (Eicli- mond Wolcott, First Lieutenant, Co. F, 10th Illinois. ■ ♦ EXCITING ADVENTUEES OF A SCOUT. Bansville, Mich., Aug. 7.— Feeling it my duty in the sprmg of 1862, I enlisted in the 11th Michi- gan Cavalry, and in the fall Avas ordered to East Tennessee. We had been in camp tAvo weeks, and had lived quite well for soldiers. A young lady of pure Southern type and beauty used to bring pies and cake to camp and sell them to the boys. I became one of her customers, and, indeed, became 'A'ery Avell acquaijited with her. Her father was dead, and she had two brothers. TRUE STOTTTES OF THE WAR FOR THE UXIOX. 69 ill the rebel service. PLer mother's property had been confiscated and site had been compelled to hake and sell to the soldiers to provide for her- self and invalid mother. She was a brave and heroic girl, and certainly a credit even to Seoes- ■eion. I think she was really more Union in senti- ment than reliel, and I asked her why she seemed to sitle with the South. She replied that it was because her ibrother did, and tliat that mast be riaht, for he never did anythi^ig- wrong-. I car- ried her bask(^t and accompamied her to the picket line on the day that we had this conversation. One afternoon, the last on which she ever came to camp, I, as usual, escorted her to the lines. She must have had a presentment of comino; evil, tecause she did not start as scon as usual ; and she said : " It seems so strange, I am so sorry for you poor Yankees, figliting never to win." "Do not be so sure of that," I said ; " we expect to win in all our undertaldngs." "Well," she said, "if I can be of service to you personally let nie know." I thanked her and grasped her hand, possi,b]y longer than niere politeness would dic- tate. She excused herself and was srone. Next day I was impatient for the time to arrive wheii ;she usually came, but slie came not. That afternoon there was a rumor that tliere was a reliel force in our front. Tlie general in command asked' who Avould volunteer to act as scout, and go and reconnoitre. I had Ihf fleetest horse in the command, and wanted some excite- ment, and perhaps a stripe added to my arm for valiant service. So I volunteered. Before the next night I wished that stri.pes, ex^^itement and praise were at the bottom of the sea. The g-en- ■eral bade me God-speed, but to be careful: the consequences of being caught as a spj' were well known. I toid him, '■ Better one man than a -whole command surprised and beaten." I started at sundown, armed with revolver and carbine, and as much disguised as possilile. The Toute lay nearly due south over mountainour^ country and small streams. I went cautiously and had no mishap or adventure vmti\ I heard the neighing of a horse. This alarmed me, for tear my horse would reply; but he did not. I fol- lowed in the direction of the horse as nearly as I could. Suddenly I saw a faint light glimmering in the di^stance, then another and another. It w'as a rebel camp. I went as quietly as I w;>s able to witliin fifty yards of the camp, as well as I could judge by the starlight. Just as I was rabout to ride around to the south, to see more clearly, I thought I saw a figure in the bushes. I at once withdrew and started for a new point of A'iew, when snap went tlie crack of a revolver. I hear.l the order "Halt!" and the cold steel was ■at my temple. "'TVHiat are you doing here, you confounded Yank? Oh, I see! A spy! Are you?" I had run upon tlie vidette picket. Well, then I wished I were in the Union lines, but wishing was of no use. "Wal, you'd better be gitiin' off that hoss. Mister Yank, if you know what's good fur ye, " said the vidette. It is needless to say I dis- mounted. The point of that revolver had not moved. My horse in the mean time gave a spring .and was off in the darkness. It seemed an hour Avhile I stood tliere until the sergeant of the guai-d came w^th tlie relief and I was marched, with the said revolver stiil close at my head, to the colonel's tent. I was placed under arrest and imprisoned in the guard- house. No one can teU. how I felt until he has 1 .Hm in the same place that I was. I groped around in the darkness, and found a bench, pos- sibly six feet long, which was meant to serve for c'f.'.ir and bed. I sat down, too weak to stand. Wliat a change the last few hours had brought! 1 > could see nothing, but could hear the tramp of the sentinel. Morning dawned at last. The first glimpse of daylight came through a knot- hole in the boards. As soon as it was light enough I stood upon my bench and peered out. I could see row after row of rebel tents. The door was presently opened and I was taken to headquarters, courtmartialled and sentenced to lie shot ithe following morning, and taken back to my dungeon. I sat down, perfectly miseralDle. There was not one spark of hope. It must (have been 3 in the afternoon when I heard voices outside. 1 heard this conversation : " So you have a real Yankee spy, have you ' Now I want to see him, and you, Gus, you never refused me any reasonable thing." A man replied: ••.Tennie, I am surprised; he looks like any common Yank." It was the colonel who spoke. They said sometliing else whi,ch I did not hear, and then the door opened and in walked the colo- nel, and by his side the little sutler girl who had brought cakes and pies to the Union camp. She gave me one glance. We recognized each other at once. I started forward and would have taken her hand, but she gave me a look I sliali never forget. I thiiik she would have fallen had not her brother sustained her. She seemed to realize her position and asked me how it all had come about. It was the colonel's turn to be surprised because he saw that we were acquainted. An explanation followed. She told him that she had peddled in the Union camp to lighten liis burden and take care of their mother. " Well, Jennie, you were always a mystery," wa.s all he could saj'. " And you are condemned to " she said ; she did not finish the sentence. She continued : " I would gladlj^ help you if I could, but I am power- less. " With a fcAv more remarks and a hearty hand- shake she departed. I could still hear them talk- ing outside. " And so you have ordered him to be shot. How could you ? He was so kind and gentlemanly to ine. I told him about you, that you never did anything wrong, and now you have ordered his execution." "Not ordered it," he replied, "but it is my duty to see that it is carried out, and that I shall most certainly do. You know it would be very wrong to let him go. It would mean ruin to our whole force." " Have him promise ; I know if he promises he is too manly to break his word." " But promises will never do in war," the colo- nel said. I heard a sob, and then. " One thing more I wiiX 10 LIBEAEY OF TEIISIWE EXT.liAS. ask. Grant him a little respite, only lor one dajT- You know life is sweet to all alike, and he shoulil have one day more. Now I will stay right here until you say yes." He was silent a moment and then said : " As you say ; I will give iJie order to-nJ^M." "You are the same good, noble brother still,"' she said, and that was all. But her wish was gratified. I don't ithink they knew that I heard their con- Tereation, but from that moment I began to hoix>. It was now supper time, and hardtack and coffee were brought. I ate some, and then the colougl came in and said : " I have given you one more day, but be prepared tor the worst, for it ia posi- tively the last chance.- I always have had a weakness when that gentle sister is concerned." I undertoolc to stammer my thanks, but he said, "Better be thinking of something else." That night, lil^e the previous one, was spent in wakefulness, and shall I say in prayers. I thought of mother and sisters, and wanted to send some word of comfort, but that was impossi,ble. I resolved to die like a man. At last another day dawned clear and warm. I could see the rays of sun streaming through the knot-hole. I dragged along through another day, and almost wished Jennie had stayed away. Night came and with it a dainty supper from Jennie as a last offering. I found a small parcel m a piece of cake, saying " I have done all I could, but all is useless, though I will never for- get your IdndTiess, and pray God to forgive those who have condemned you to your present fate." Tears of gratitude streamed down my face. I tried to say, " Thy wiU bo done." I sat down as usual on the bench to await the coming of the fatal morning. I cannot tell the agony of that niglit. Even now the cold sweat will start as I thj.nlc of it. It seemed an age to me, alone in darkness. But at last I could see signs of morn- ing, as I supposed, the last on earth for me. While thinl^ing of home and friends, whom I expected never to see again, I heard a musket- shot. "Bang, bang, bang!" What it was I knew not, but I was breathless. I used my bench to look out of the knot-hole in the wall. Just coming over the hill, and inside the rebel camp, I saw a host of Wuecoats, and the rebels were flying iin every direction, trying to form a line. The Federals were too much for them, and they broke and ran in confusion. Tliey went flying past the guardhouse, evidently forgetting their Union prisoner. As soon as I sa.w the last blue- coats coming I took that much-used and useful berfch and converted it into a battering-ram. T emerged from my prison in time to join in the chase. The rebels were driven about ten Jniles, and our victory was complete. We camped tliat night on the rebel camp-groiind. I\fy fortunate escape was duly told to the boys, and how they came just in time. But, let me say, my adventures took away all my desire to win fame and honor as a scout. I never saw the colonel or Jennie after that experience, but I shall always hold them in rev- erence.— (Cavalryman. I I THIJY LOST TWC-IHIBBS. A TEERIBLE DAY AT DEEP EUN WHAT A NON-COMMISSIONED OFFICER OF THE IITH MAINE WITNESSED OF THE BATTLE. Whitney ville, Me., July 11. --The scenes I am about to portray occurred near the close of a thi-ee years' term in active service as a i^rivate soldier and non-commissioned officer of the 11th Maine. At the time of which I Avrite I was no novice ia warfare, and was 'not easily startled by the sound of bullets or the roar of artillery. I had passed through the Peninsular campaign from Yorktown to Harrisov's Landing, under McClellan ; partici- pated in tlie bombardment of Charleston lunder Gilmore and Hunter ; and shared the fortunes of Butler's troops from City Point to Bermuda Hun- dred, Fort Darling, Strawberry Plains and Deep Bottom. The incidents which I shall relate are more vividly remembered than previous scenes,, because they occurred nearer the close of my ser- vice. Since our return to Deep Bottom at the close of a ten hours' fight at Strawberry Plains, July 26 an.d 2 7, we had performed various duties such as usually fall to the lot of ithe common soldier. On the flight of August 13 we became a part of the- piclvet out at the front. A few hours previous to our departure for picket duty, several of the 11th who had been home on sick furlough returned. Among them was Charley Ilrann, of Company C. Charley Avas a goo-l sol- dier, and, in the best of si^irits, marched with us to the picket line. Through the night his recital of stories connected with home was listened to 'by n appreciative and longing audience. At dawn we were ordered to roll our blankets- and " fall into line. " Everything had been un- usually quiet, and there was no thought of an ad- vance. But when the line was formed, Ave Avere- deployed facing toward the enemy, whose outer line was not 500 yards aAvay. At the comoiand " Forward ! " we moved on at a quick pace, wMob soon brought us from the woods into a slashing of small pine trees. We could see nothing except- withering brush on every hand, which gave forth; a peculiar odor. JS'o sound was heard save the subdued commands of the officers and the rustle of the dry leaves beneath cur feet. At the further edge of injury '^othincr more than a sliiht brni'^e wh'Vh smarted some, but never caused me to leave the company. I hav^ often looked into the different histories of the Eebellion for an account of this cavalrv charge, but have never seon one. It was a small affair, comparatively, but there ?,«' one thing cer- tain—cavalrymen never did much nobler rinming during- the late Civil War than we did on that occasion. On April 9 General Gregg. Tom Dighton,, Moore,. Ketcham and all the rest Avho were captured tha_t day in and about the ditch came back to the reni- ment. Lre had ,surrr>T!dered. No man in the Ifith Pennsylvania Cavalry ever had more credit for actual bravery than Thomas Dighton. And he never even received a corporal's brevet, though Go^eral Gregg, who was captured with him w.-^s brevet+ed to several offices for bravery.— (M. A. Butterfield. "^^rgeant Company L, Ifith Pennsyl- vania Cavalry. TEUE STOEIES OF THE WAR FOR THE UNION. 75 A MOTHER OF THE WAR. HER UNEXPECTED REWARD. SHE GAVE HER HUSBAXD AXD TWO SOXS AND FINALLY HERSELF. Providence, E. I., June 23.— It was a pleasant summer evening in 1863. Tlie sun was fast set- tincr, ligliting up the edges of a dark purple cloud- bank, whose thunderheads were outlined against the sky with beautiful zigzag fringes of scarlet and gold colors. Just a ripple among the leaves in an old stately elm tree in one corner of the garden announced the soft dying cut of the twi- light breeze. The cattle lowed coming up the lane, led by the old speckled bull Duke, whose hoarse bellowing could be heard, like distant mut- tering of thunder. A motherly biddy, followed by her brood of cMckens, was hastening about the yard eager to get one last pick in the grain trough before retiring to her nesting-place for the night. Mrs. Maynard saw all this, as she reclined in an easy chair at the window fronting the lane. As the cows, headed by old Duke, Hied slowly into the barnyard, a boy appeared coming up the lane. He was whistling a taerry tune, and as he ap- proached the house he began ; We shall meet, but we shall miss him. There will be one vacant chair. Mrs. Maynard's eyes filled with tears while she let them rest proudly on her comely boy. Arthur Maynard was only fifteen years of age, and as bright a lad as could be found in the town of Putnam, Conn. Securing the cows in the yard, Arthur, leaning carelessly on the window-sill, looked anxiously in his mother's sorrowful face and finally spoke: "Fie, mamma, dear, put on one of your nice looks now. I know all about it. Nod Holly's mother made just such a fuss, but in the end she gave her consent for him to enlist. Just think, mother, how I must feel about it; most aU the boys of my age are enlisting, and the only ones that are not signing their names haven't any vim in them." Mxs. Maynard could hardly suppress a smile, and it encouraged the boy to proceed, " It's to be a grand company, and I know quite a number who are enlisting in our neighborhood, and three years will not be so very long. Tlien the boys will come 'marching home.'" "Yes, Arthur, I am proud of you, and of John, and of the patriotism shown by you both ; but it is becau'se I have so much love for you that I am so reJuctanT. to allow you to go. Three years as you say seems but a short time to you, perhaps, but to me it will seem an age. Can you not rest satisfied that it has wrung my heartstrings al- ready, at the'deatn of your father, and the parting with John? Oh, I beg of you, my dear boy, not to ask it of me. I cannot resign myself to tliis third parting. You are rash and inclined to be headstrong, and will rush into danger under ex- citement when there is no need or just cause for it; in that you resemble John. Already he has been twice wounded. Yes," in a musing tone, "I am proud of him, but fear I shall never see liis dear face again." Overcome by her feelings, Mi'S. Maynard wept hysterically. Her husband had but recently died, and to her two boys she looked for needful help. John had obeyed the first call to arms, and was already fighting for the Union. Now Arthur had been seized with tlie war fever. Truly, there was trouble ahead for the little woman, and slie could not be blamed for allowing her mother love to seem stronger than patriotism. She finally looked down at Artliur, who, with a pensive expression on his brown face, leaned for- ward on the window-sill and watclied his mother's face, with an acliing heart. She leaned forward and fervently imprinted a kiss upon his 'upturned face, which was returned with interest by Arthur. "So do I baptize thee and bless thee, and give thee into the keeping of the Lord thy God, now and forever more. Amen ! " murmured Mrs. Maynard. Arthur enlisted in Hartford, and soon afterward his regiment was ordered to the front, where it participated in a number of engagements. John's and Arthur's regiments were so widely separated in the field that for months they did not meet. It was the night before the second day's fight at Gettysburg, and with the exception of the pick- ets and the guard, the Union Army lay wrapped in restless sleep. The wounded ^vllo had not been carried from th^ Celd, lay amid the dead in the grime and dust of the first day's battle. Now and' then some wounded soldier was rudely awakened from [his troubled sleep by pain from his wounds,, and with dry lips and throat would harshly shout,, causing those who could in his immediate vicinity to raise themselves up, only to fall back with a pitiful sense of helplessness to await removal from the field of carnage. In the last fearful rush of the conteSding armies and the retreat of the Confederates thousands of dead and wounded soldiers of both armies had been left on the field. Arthur Maynard was among the latter, a piece of exploding shell having- v/ounded him terribly in his right shoulder. It was nearly break of day iwhen Arthur recovered his senses. Slowly and painfully he managed to regain his feet, and in a sort of dazed way he tottered slowly along. A deep groan from 'a pros- trait solflier as Arthur stumbled over him caused him to halt. "Water, water! for— the— love— oT God— give— me— one ."wallow." Mechanieall.A% Artliur Icnelt down beside the wounded oflicer and held his canteen, which still' contained a little of the precious lluid, tremblinsly to the man's lips. The olTicer eagerlj-- drank a swallow or two, then, through tlie misty li.ght, looked up gratefully in the face of the lad, who still bent over him. The officer's eyes dilated, he partially raised himself Up, and seized Sfthur's arm in a desperate but feeble grasp. "My God!'' he hoarsely exclaimed; "Arthur! you— oh— mother, tell— her— oh— oh too— late— tell " His form fell back stiff and stark in death with his eyeballs staring into vacancy. The news of John's death and Arthur's capture by the rebels nearly drove Mrs. Maynard dis- LIBEAEY OF TEIBCXi: fZXTEAS. tiactecl. Then there came a day whea the Cluife- tian Commission reported to her that Arthur had died in the terrible prison pen at Ander&onvUle. Then all that life was worth living for seemed to her to have disappeared. Truly her lot was de- plorable. But the good little woman did not ut- terly despond. She bowed her head in submission and murmured : '■ Thy will, oh Lord, be done, not mine. I have given both my sons to their country. Now I give myself. " Any person passing through the General Hospital in Washington in 1864 could not help but notice a pale-faced woman going about noislessly minis- tering to the sick and wounded. It was ili's. Maynard. ]\Iany soldiers had their last moments softened and their thoughts turned in the right direction by this lovely Avoman nurse. It was m the fall of 18 65. The news of Lee's surrender had reached the hospital. It encourage! the wounded, who then Icaew that as soon as their ■condition would warrant they would be sent home, instead of to the field of carnage. It made Mrs. Maynard heartsick to think of her desolate home in Connecticut. The surgeon, who knew her story, was very good to her, and promised to see that she was cared for. One beautiful morning, just a month after Lee's surrender, a pale, emaciated boy dressed in a tat- "tered soldier's uniform, applied to the hospital for admittance. Although most of the sick and con- valescent had been sent home, there still remained a few to be cared for. The boy was given a cot in Ward A. Tlie following morning he was ra\T.ng with fever and for two weeks Avas out of his head. ^Irs. iNIaynard, passing through Ward A one morn- ing, stopped at the boy's cot, and laid her hand gently on his forehead. There seemed to be a subtl^> influence in the touch, for the youth lay quiet for a long time. She let her eyes rest on his pale face, and noticed his sunken cheeks, the drawn flesh and the sharpened nose, all evidences to her experienced eyes of terrible suffering. There seemed something familiar in the contour of his features. Many times before had she tiied to draw a likeness between some sick boy and her own Arthur, but the resemblance Avliich seemed so real at times, had so far failed in all cases. The sun was just setting, illuminating a pile of jagged.edged clouds wMch hung above the hills. Mrs. Maynard sat with her face turned toward the wiiidow. Her thoughts went back to just such a scene, when the distant clouds put on much the same hue. Tears suffused her ey??. It was all she could do to restrain her feelings and not _sob aloud. " ^Mother ! " The words were faintly spoken. Mrs. Maynard turned her head and looked at the boy, witile the pupils of her eyes dilated. He laj' with his eyes open, pensively regarding her, wliile his breath came soft and faint. Mrs. ^NlajTiard gently stroked the 'boy's hair. '• Jlother ! " he uttered in plaintive tones. " ^Vhere am I ? Is this Heaven ? " Something in the tones of the boy's voice caused her to Ibend over him and gaze directly into Ms glassy-looking eyes. Wliat she dit-covered there nearly caused her heart to stop beating. It was her boy, her Arthur, returned to her in this man- ner, and Arthur recognized his mother. " Dear mother, " he said, in feeble tojies, " am I home again ? " " Yes, my dear boy, j-es ; but you have been very sick and must not talk." The sick in the ward Avondered the next day what had come oVer their pretty nurse to cause her to go about singing so joyously but softly. As soon as Arthur could converse without dan- ger to hims'3lf, he told his story. He had recov- ered from his wound in the rebel liospital and was put in the prison pen at Andersonville, from which he afterward escaped. He made liis waj' finally into the western mountains of North Carolina. He was kept in hiding by Union men who changed from place to place in the hills as danger threat- ened them. When the news was received that General Lee had surrendered, and Jeff. Davis had been captured, it was a long time before the loyal men Avould believe it. At last the news was con- firmed, and the North Carolinians separated for their homes. Arthur went to NasliAille to Mili- tary Headquarters, but found upon arriving there that there \vas no provision for transportatidrn, and the poor, emaciated boy, weak and nearly worn out from his long imprisonment and exposure in the mountains, was obHged to beg his way to Wasliington, and was admitted to the hospital as the reader already knows. Mrs. Maynard was only one out of hundreds of heroic mothers who passed through some lil^e ex- perience.— (Stephen F. Blanding. NIP AND TUCK FOR LIFE. AXOTHER STORY OF ADVENTURE AMONG THE BUSHWHACKERS— CHASED BY A EEniON OF FIENDS INCARNATE— A TOUN& WOMAN'S MISTAKEN ACT. Skaneateles, N. Y., July 30.— Readers of war history lare familiar with Sherman's Atlanta cam- paign, which led to the capture and burning of that ciity, aind subsequently to the famous march to f!ie sea. I was with this army under Sherman in the Atlanta campaign in the early summer ot 18''54. After passing Kingston, Ga., my old com- plaint of malarial fever, accompanied with the '• shakes," came back on me with a vengeance. One morning I found myself too weak to walk or stand up. The army was marching right along every day, and I was left behind, lying alone in the woods, too sick to move. I lay there all one day and ni^t. The foUoAving day I managed to crawl back to Ivingston, although with the great- est difficulty, and found there an army hospital, where I was tafeen in. ]^y the aid of a good diet and liberal doses of quinine I Avas soon able t'^ perform duty again, and was put to work as hos- pi.tal nurse to the wounded soldiers who came pouring in from the front. Not liking this employment, I applied to the commander of the post to be sent back to my r giment. I was, howeA-er, detailed for serAace in the United 'States Telegxaph Corps at Kingston, and I reported for dutj- to the operator there. I TEUE STOEIES OF THE WAR FOR THE UNION. TC worlted as batteryman at first, aud altorward as a repairer (now kuowu as liiieinaii). Subsequeutly I became an oiJerator, aud upon tlie abandonment if the railroad between Dalton and Atlanta, Ga., I was sent to Sprijigfield, Tenn. This town, eighteen miles northeast from Nashville, was held bj' tlie Government to keep open the railroad run- r.m. Towusend, Assistant Adintant-General, Army of the Potomac. That handsome boy, a mother's choice, lay first in the foremost line— dead. The twin brother was carried back with an arm shattered and mangled t)y a shell. It was a hard, and melancholy task to vrrite to that waiting mother, who no doubt heard the roar of the train speeding up througli the valley, and stood upon the thresh- old of his childhood's home to embrace and wel- come her boy— and who, instead of receiving him, received the message of death, and the poor, maimed and slighted son who died in her arms a few months later from his wounds. REVENGE. With courage unabated by the bloody check they had received, the Federal troops threw up breastworks to hold the ground they had wrested from the Confederates; and the narrow strip of land in front of the Second Brigade, Second Divi- sion, Second Corps, only forty-three yards wide be- tween the opposing armies, for eight days and nights kept the forces on both sides constantly on the alert. By day the rifles of the sharpshooters kept up a nervous and spiteful fire, and by night the earth and sky we*e lit up by the flash of cannon, howitzers and mortars. On the 4th, at midnight, the debatable ground 80 LIBEAEY OF lEIBL-^E EXTEAS. ■was filled with Federal soldiers silently satherinrj; the wounded, 'who had lain so many hours without food or water l^eneath a burning sun. Sud- denly tlie soldiers leaped within the lines, and fol- lowing after tbem came charnin,"- columns of the Confederates. Then a fire rolled out at them as if the very heavens were ablaze, and the crash of muslictry along the front of the Second Corps aroused from sleep the long line to the right and the faraway camps of the reserves and army trains. The columns in gray wei-e hurled back to their works. The niftht winds far and wide bore the ex- ulting cheers of Hancock's men, who rejoiced to know that the enemy had leceived a taste of the bitterness they had eo often experienced them- selves. Daylight showed the narrow strip lietween the lines more thickly strewn than ever witli soldiers, but this time they were in gray. ^VHAT WAS G-OD'S PIjAN ? Then the hearts of the soldiers seemed to grow more hard, obdurate and cruel, and for days the sharpshooting was prosecuted murderously at everything which moved on either side— not spar- ing even the wounded between the lines. Tliis made more places vacant in households both North and South, deciding nothing for the right, or for liberty, justice and true religion. It proved, how- ever, that the most cruel of all wars is the one between people of the same tongue and ancestry. Thus for eight days and nights the opposing aimies literally besieged each other. At last an officer caine down the line bearing a white flag— a truce to gather in the wounded and bury the dead. Powder-begi'imed but tender- feeling soldiers bore back the twin brother— a mother's choice— and buried him beneath the shade of a spreadiiig oak. Beside him they laid sixtv- six of his comrades in the 184th Pennsylvania, and carried 113 back to the t5eld hospitals. In tlies'^ hospitals many died, while others were able to reach home and friends, where loving hands soothed their feverish wounds, and where at last tliey were laid to slumber beside generations of their kindred. In God's great plan of creation the sunshine warms and the ram waters the earth, so that it may bring forth flowers, fruits and golden grain. Could it be but a part of that plan for the blood of the hundreds ot thousands of men which crim- soned the soil of the' South to become germs of true chivalry, to take root and produce a liarvest of patriotism, loj-alty and honor that would do all things and endure all things for their mother country, and, like the noble youths from whom they sprung, if needs be, die for her ? THE 184TH ANNIHILATED. General Lee. to whom history must accord greatness as a leader fighting on the defensive, clung closely to his entrenchments, gave up all hope of driving the Federals back, and refused' to come out and fight on open around. Grant, after nine days more of striving to find a weak place in the enemy's lines, and after losing thou- sands of men in vain assaults, decided to move across the James and strilce Eichmond from the south. In the series of hard-fought battles around Pe- tersburg, from the 12fla to the 2 2d of June, the seven companies of the lS4th Pennsylvania par- ticipated, losing one-fifth of their number in killed and wounded. On the 2 2d of June, at 3 a. m., what was left of the Second Brigade, in- cluding this regiment, was ordered forward to take an advanced position. In the movement a number of Confederates were captured while asleep in the rifle-pits. The enemy began a rapid and heavy tire, showing superior force, and the brigade, I^ilting in the edge of a wood, tore down an old fence, and with the rails and earth, constructed lialit Ire'.i^t works. When it V-ecame light enough to see they discovered inu front of them two large redoubts armed with heavy siege guns, i\nd connected by high breast- works, with blockhouses on the right, fitted with noriholes for sliarpsliooters. On the left of the Second Brigade thsre were no troops connecting with them, nor works to priitect tlieir flank. •'Greeley's History of the Americoji Con- flict'' speaks of Hill's forces "'striking theni in the flank, rolhng them up and forcing them Viack with the loss of four guns and many prisoners.'' Tiiis goes hardly far enough to be fair, because the Federal brigade repelled three charges of the enemy during the day. They sent word back to their division commander re- peatedly of their perilous position, and the noise- of the cannon and muslcetrv was surely addi- tional warning that the little brigade was being hard pressed. Had their old leader, Hancock, been there inst<'ad of being disabled by wounds the day might have had a brighter ending. An hour before sunset, while resisting and re- pelling a furious charae in their front, their flank was gained by a division of Hill's corps, which captured four guns and l,50n men of the Second Briaade. Of the 184th Pennsylvania fifty-two- were killed and wounded and 120 were taken prisoners out of 212 officers and men engaged. Ninety out of the 120 died from starvation and inhuman treatment in Southern prison pens. A few minutes after the destruction of the brigade fhe Second Corps charged upon the enemy, driving them back and recoverin:^ thp dead and wounded : but too late to lescuo the prisoners. After lying all night upon a hill back of Peters- burg, near the headquarters of General Lee, the prisoners were marclied to the Appomattox, where their names, etc., were eiir oiled. They were tlien 'sent to Eichmond. Aft^r hours of standing in the hot sun. they were paraded through the principal streets of the city, past the Capit-)] and President's mansion to revive the despaiuing spirits of thi^ citizens. .V Eichmond pap^r of June 24 contained an article glorifying the victory and replete with abuse of the prisoners, '' who, \vith their high topboots, cocked hats, flowinnr sashes and poodle side-whiskers, were the most desperate cut-throat lookins' Yankees, the viles<- lot un- hunsr, or that was ever brought into Eichmond, etc." The prisoners probably brought this criti- cism upoTi themselves ; because, learning that Winder and his sta